


The Joke Book Trap

by TalisRuadair



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 06:37:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 72,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17177798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TalisRuadair/pseuds/TalisRuadair
Summary: Where Hermione Granger is gifted a new WWW product for Christmas from George and Fred sucking her into her favorite book by Jane Austen, however, there as some unintended consequences when the Head Boy is sucked in as well. This was the original version of this story on Fanfiction.net that I edited to comply with their M rating w/o lemons.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Series (1997-2007) and any characters and original locations within the books belong to JK Rowling. I own my original characters and my plot. I am not trying to pass any of these characters or copyrighted ideas off as my own and therefore it isn’t plagiarism or copyright infringement. Pride and Prejudice belongs to Jane Austen, I am only borrowing her world and some of her dialog as this story takes place in her book Pride and Prejudice.

**Chapter One – A Gift**

It was Christmas morning at Hogwarts. Many things had changed for Hermione over the past year. She had spent the holiday the year before hunting down Horcruxes with Harry. Ron had left them and Harry and she went to Godric’s Hallow for information, and completely forgot what day it was. However, so much had changed within the year. Her parents were still in Australia and the Order still had yet to locate them. It had also been only a few months since she lost more people she loved at the Battle of Hogwarts, her home away from home. She lost the hat and sock loving Dobby, Lupin, Tonks, and Fred. George was still grieving his twin and just didn’t seem the same without him.

She really missed Dobby because he was such a great House Elf, Hogwarts was different without him. He’d died at the hands of Bellatrix and a bloody knife as they escaped from Malfoy Manor. She looked down at the Mudblood scar that was still etched in her left arm. It was a physical representation of the emotional scars she still had from the war. The only positive was the lunatic of a woman had died at the hands of Molly, her second mother. Hermione stared down at the wrapped gift from George that he’d signed both his and his dead twin’s name to. She knew that she could’ve gone to the Burrow for the holiday but it just didn’t feel right. She didn’t want to intrude upon the family’s first Christmas without Fred and she really wasn’t in the mood to see Ron. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about her best friend. They’d kissed during the battle, but how compatible were they really?

She sat in the Head Boy and Girl common room alone, as the Head Boy, Theodore Nott, was in the Slytherin Common Room with some of his buddies. She sighed, as she unwrapped the red and gold foiled paper. So, much laughter died with Fred and she was only reminded of him as she saw her favorite book. He was the one who’d given her a hard time for her love of Classic Muggle literature. She lovingly ran her fingers over the title of her all time favorite book.

She opened _Pride and Prejudice_ and read the opening paragraph aloud, “ _It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered the rightful property or some one or other of their daughters._ ”

* * *

Hermione wasn’t sure what happened, other than her scenery quickly changed. She understood that she couldn’t have apparated as Hogwarts was warded against it. However, was it possible that the book was a portkey? If it was a portkey, where was she? Was she in some reenactment village set in the early 19th century? She looked around the room and quickly recognized the faces around her. They were seated in a small parlor near a lit fire. Arthur Weasley was busy reading a newspaper and Molly was knitting the muggle way. Hermione looked down at her hands and noticed she was trimming a hat, and something about the scene seemed familiar.

“I hope Mr. Bingley will like it, Lizzy,” Arthur commented looking directly at Hermione.

Hermione mused over the comment about Mr. Bingley, she recognized the name from her favorite novel, but why was Mr. Weasley calling her Lizzy? Before she could continue the contemplations any further, Molly scowled at Arthur, “We are not in a way to know _what_ Mr. Bingley likes since we are not to visit.”

That was when everything clicked, she was somehow in the novel _Pride and Prejudice_ , as the protagonist Elizabeth Bennet and it was her time to give a cleaver retort. “But you forget Mum; we shall meet him at the assemblies. Mrs. Long promised to introduce him.”

Molly looked quite indignant with her disheveled ginger hair. Hermione quickly realized that it was Mrs. Bennet sitting before her, and for some reason her subconscious mind superimposed the image of Molly Weasley over the fretful mother of five girls. The real Molly was a far stronger woman and quicker witted than the character doppelganger. The woman used a higher pitched and wiener voice than Mrs. Weasley ever would, “I do not believe Mrs. Long will do any such thing. She has two nieces of her own. She is selfish, hypocritical woman, and I have no opinion of her.”

Hermione couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes at the judgmental statement coming out of Molly Weasley’s mouth, who she knew to be the most caring and nurturing woman. Molly was never one for gossip, but perhaps she would’ve been different if she had five daughters instead of six sons and one daughter.

Arthur set his newspaper in his lap and kept a completely serious face, “No more have I and I am glad to find that you do not depend on her serving you.”

Hermione knew the scene she was in by heart since she had read the book hundreds of times over the years hoping that one day she’d find her Mr. Darcy. She couldn’t help but wonder who would be Mr. Darcy in this dream, or whatever she was experiencing. Would he be Ron or would her confusion with regards to her Ginger best friend have an effect on the outcome. She looked around and noticed Lizzy’s sisters had familiar faces as well. Fleur sat next to her working on needle point, Luna was staring down at a book, Parvarti started coughing, and Lavender was listening to the banter going on between Molly and Arthur with a bemused look.

Molly stared at the coughing Parvati and scolded, “Don’t keep coughing so, Kitty, for Heaven’s sake! Have a little compassion on my nerves. You tear them to pieces.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow and spoke with a sarcastic laced tone, “Kitty has no discretion in her coughs. She times them ill.”

Parvati looked down at her feet, “I do not cough for my own amusement.”

Arthur looked over at Hermione, “When is your next ball to be, Lizzy?”

Hermione looked up at him and smiled, “It will be a fortnight tomorrow.” She would find out who her subconscious mind imprinted on Mr. Darcy in two weeks. She only hoped that time would pass quicker wherever she was trapped than the time in the real world. Another thought struck her, she was in the muggle literary world of Jane Austin, would she be capable of magic?

“Aye, so it is,” Molly furrowed her brow, “and Mrs. Long does not come back till the day before; so it will be impossible for her to introduce him, for she will not know him herself.”

Arthur smiled, “Then my dear, you may have the advantage of your friend, and introduce Mr. Bingley to _her_.”

“Impossible, Mr. Bennet, impossible…” Molly went off on her tangent and Hermione started to tune out the conversation going on around her, as she tried to figure out who each of her sisters were. She knew that Parvati was Kitty. Since she and Lavender were inseparable, she could only assume the latter was Lydia. That left Fleur and Luna.

Her musings were interrupted when Arthur asked Mary her opinion and was looking directly at Luna. Luna momentarily looked up from her book with her normal far away stare. It looked like she wanted to say something sensible but was at a loss for words. Hermione looked back over at Fleur and quickly realize the quarter Veela was the perfect facsimile to the character Jane. Though, she really did hope she didn’t speak with her awful French accent. She could only wonder if that meant that Mr. Bingley would be the handsomely rugged cruse breaker, Bill Weasley.

Arthur cut into Hermione’s thoughts once more, “While Mary is adjusting her ideas, let us return to Mr. Bingley.”

His wife forced her needles into her knitting and raised her hands in frustration, “I am sick of Mr. Bingley.”

Hermione found the character reactions far more amusing than anything she’d imagined while reading the book. Perhaps being fully emerged into the classic had its benefits. It was sure keeping her mind off of the previous year of her life.  She smiled as she listened to Arthur’s even toned response, “I am sorry to hear _that_ ; but why did not you tell me that before? If I had known as much this morning I certainly would not have called on him. It is very unlucky; but as I have actually paid the visit, we cannot escape the acquaintance now.”

Hermione couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the conversation between Molly and Lavender. She quickly understood why her mind placed Lavender in the silly part of Lydia. She really was just as silly as the character depicted. In fact, she quickly realized that the personalities of each of her subconscious projections fit the Austen characters perfectly. Her mind truly was a miraculous thing. Though she still wondered how she’d ended up in the fictional world of _Pride and Prejudice_ with the all too familiar faces from her life. Was she Dorothy and no longer in Kansas? Not that she’d ever been to the United States, let alone the Midwestern state of Kansas, but she really did feel like she was in the land of OZ.

* * *

Time passed for Hermione as she listened to everyone in the household excluding Fleur and herself grilling Arthur for a description of Mr. Bingley. She heard the same description from the book that he was young, exceedingly handsome, quite agreeable, and was expected to bring a large party to the next assembly. Hermione knew that meant he was bringing his friend Mr. Darcy with him, and she still couldn’t place whose familiar face would be stuck to her romantic interest. She thought about how Mr. Darcy was portrayed in the book. He was proud, rich, good looking, shy, and somewhat rude. Was there anyone she knew that would fit that character? She didn’t know anyone who had those traits; perhaps her feelings toward Ron would cast him as the romantic lead because no one else fit. There was one possible person, but there was no way her mind would supply that person.

The day of Bingley’s visit arrived and Hermione stared out of the upper window with Fleur, Luna, Parvarti, and Lavender. He was wearing a blue coat and rode a black horse, however Hermione recognized the bright red hair tied back in a pony tail at the nape of his neck. Though that style of haircut was quite common within the time period, she was certain her first assumption was correct. Bill Weasley would be playing the character of Bingley for her experience. Her assumption being correct about Bill only made her wonder if Ron would turn out to be Darcy because of his relationship to Bill in her reality. Bingley spent ten minutes in the library with Arthur before leaving. Of course an invitation to dinner was sent to him, which he sadly declined as he had to go London the following morning. Molly was quite upset until Lady Lucas assured her that he’d gone to London to return with a large party.

Hermione was a bit shocked to see Andromeda sitting in the kitchen with Molly, only because she mistook her for Bellatrix for a moment. Again, her mind was working quickly, if Mrs. Tonks was Lady Lucas, then Tonks would be Charlotte. Tears welled up in her eyes, as she considered the possibility of seeing her dead friend once again. Though, it was likely that she wouldn’t have her metamorphic abilities, as she was probably muggle. The time of the assembly soon arrived and Hermione made sure to keep an eye out for Bill and his party of five. She was correct that William Weasley was Bingley, the older sister was Astoria Greengrass, which was quite odd considering the younger sister was Ginny Weasley and she was older than Astoria in real life. Astoria’s husband was none other than the Head Boy, Theodore Nott. His long dark hair was also pulled back at the nape of his neck and his dark eyes met Hermione’s for a moment. She knew the last member of the party had to be Mr. Darcy. She let out a gasp when she saw a pale blond Slytherin ruining her romantic images of Darcy. So, much for the greatest romantic couple of all time! There was no way this was going to work between her and Draco bloody Malfoy. He was nothing more than a fowl git and a Death Eater to boot. She knew from the moment her eyes fell upon his haughty face and pointy features that she’d never fall for such a foul, loathsome, sodding albino ferret. Another question crossed her mind, if the bouncing ferret was Darcy then which character would receive Ron’s imprint or would he be left out of the story completely?

The Ball went much like it did in the book. Draco only danced once with Astoria and once with Ginny. Hermione had to hold in laughter at the visual aspect of a Weasley dancing with a Malfoy. If only she could take a picture of this moment. Too bad she didn’t have a magical camera, but she was sure if she did, it wouldn’t work anyway. She still had yet to test her magic but she did manage to find her wand and her small coin purse, she’d attached an undetectable extension charm to, both stuffed between her bosoms in one of her empire waist gowns. Draco was the epitome of haughty, as he spent most of the ball walking around the room, and looking down his nose at others. He did occasionally converse with one of the members of his party.

Hermione, as she followed the book, sat down during two dances and overheard the conversation between Bill and Draco. Bill h ad come from the dance to press Draco to join in with the dancing, “Come, Darcy. I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance.”

“I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this it would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with.”

Bill cried, “I would not be so fastidious as you are for a kingdom! Upon my honour, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening; and there are several of them you see uncommonly pretty.”

Malfoy’s drawl made an appearance, “ _You_ are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room.” Hermione knew he spoke of Fleur as this particular scene was fully ingrained in her mind.

“Oh! She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you.”

“Which do you mean?” Draco turned around and looked at Hermione momentarily until they made eye contact, which he quickly withdrew. Hermione was surprised the usual sneer wasn’t painted across the man’s face. He was aloof with his response, “She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me; I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.”

Hermione couldn’t help but muse how similar the two really were. Draco did act just as cold and guarded as Darcy throughout the majority of the book. However, Darcy was prejudiced by the other family members rather than blood status. Even if she did admit to finding Draco attractive, there wasn’t a chance that he would allow her to get close enough to get past his blood purity beliefs. They both grew up privileged with an abundance of wealth; however Draco was pushed toward a subservient role to a madman, whereas Darcy was left to care for his younger sister after the death of his parents. She had to admit she rarely saw Draco away from his small group of friends, and he was much likely to remain within his circle of acquaintance during a ball. She didn’t remember him approaching any of the females from either of the other schools during the Yule Ball their fourth year. 

Hermione looked over and realized her assumption about who was playing Charlotte was correct as. Her good friend was none other than her dead friend Tonks. She tried to keep the tears at bay, but seeing someone she’d only lost a few months prior upset her greatly. She looked around the ball and made sure that no one saw the tears slipping from her eyes. Maybe they’d think that it was from the ill words she overheard Draco speak about her. However, she knew she needed to stop the tears, as Lizzy was a strong and independent woman who wouldn’t allow such words to upset her in such an emotional manner. She wouldn’t mind spreading the conversation she heard to her friends, but she was not one to cry because of his inconsiderate words. As it was likely that Darcy wasn’t aware that she could hear his conversation with Bingley, but Hermione wasn’t sure how many more of her dead friends she could see before she broke. How fair was it to have her loved ones, in this fictional world, when they were no longer a part of her reality?


	2. Invasion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Series (1997-2007) and any characters and original locations within the books belong to JK Rowling. I own my original characters and my plot. I am not trying to pass any of these characters or copyrighted ideas off as my own and therefore it isn’t plagiarism or copyright infringement. Pride and Prejudice belongs to Jane Austen, I am only borrowing her world and some of her dialog.

The small Christmas get together in the Slytherin Common room was winding down and Draco was starting to miss the Manor. He had to admit his Christmas at the Manor the year before was anything but cheerful, as they were all under the thumb of the Dark Lord. The Manor was gloomy during those days and the dark traces had yet to be lifted. His parents had fled the country while things calmed down, but left Draco to reattempt his seventh year. He sighed and rubbed his temples before looking over at the Head Boy. “Hey Nott, I’m kind of feeling the need for a quiet space. Do you think I could hang out with you in the Head Common Room for a bit?”

Nott’s dark eyes looked from left to right, “I don’t know. Hermione was in there when I left. She seemed just as melancholy as you do.”

Draco huffed, “Do not compare me with her, please.”

Nott looked around the room, “Okay, I guess you could come with me, but if she’s in there you might have to leave. I don’t think she’s in a mood to put up with your crap.”

Draco got up and followed Nott out of the room, “Then why does she tolerate you?”

Nott rolled his eyes, “Maybe it’s because I never really spoke to her or insulted her to her face? I mean, you made her your enemy and you still act that way after they save your life twice, three times if you count their testimony during your hearing.”

Draco grumbled, “I know I owe her and Potter. I don’t owe the Weasel because he punched me in the bloody face and refused to testify on my behalf. I guess the rivalry between our families runs much deeper than any of the nasty things I’ve said to Potter or Granger.”

They reached the portrait with a knight on it. Theo spoke the password and it swung open. They both looked around the gold and silver colored common room, and quickly noticed Hermione’s absence. Nott shrugged, “She must’ve gone to bed early. She’s been having a hard time this year because they have yet to locate her parents. Her muggle parents, she used a memory charm on them, so they would forget her and move to Australia. She misses them greatly but she knew they’d be safer away from the Wizarding War.” He walked across the room and opened his bedroom door, “How about you make yourself comfortable while I quickly grab something.”

“Yeah, whatever mate,” Draco mumbled as he approached the sofa. He noticed some wrapping paper on the coffee table and then he saw the book. It was sitting all by itself on the gold and silver embroidered sofa. He picked up the book up and read the title. He had never heard of _Pride and Prejudice_ , but quickly figured it must be a muggle book. He flipped the book over and didn’t find any information regarding what it was about. “Hmm,” he murmured as he opened the book to the first page, he skimmed over the page before laughing. He yelled, “Hey, Nott listen to this. It sounds like what we have to face in the Pure-blood community.” Nott walked back into the room as he read the first paragraph of the book.

* * *

Draco found himself in the Drawing Room of a quaint country estate. He tried to figure out how he ended up there when he was but a few moments before in the Head Common Room at Hogwarts. He knew he couldn’t have apparated but was there a possibility that the book was a portkey? No, because if it were, he surely would still have it in his hands. So, where could he be? He looked around the room and listened to the conversations going on. He recognized Astoria Greengrass and Theo Nott. Potter’s girlfriend was also there along with a long haired ginger, who also had to be a Weasley. He looked down and noticed there was a book open in his lap. He observed it was written in Latin, which he luckily was fluent in. As a Malfoy it was important for him to learn as many living and dead languages as possible. He recognized the work as one of the great works of the Wizard Homer.

“So Darcy, how did you find the country assembly?” The she-Weasel looked pointedly at Draco.

First, he didn’t know what the heck she was talking about and second, he couldn’t figure out why she was speaking to him in such a familiar manner. Also, why was she calling him Darcy? Didn’t she know his name was Draco? They’d been going to school for seven years after all. She should know his name after all that time, but wouldn’t she be addressing him by his last name anyway, so she wouldn’t have mixed up Darcy with Draco. Well time to school his face and give a generic response, “You know how I am in large gatherings of strangers. I prefer to be well acquainted with a person before I carry  on with intimate conversation, but you understand that don’t you Nott.”

 Everyone in the room including Nott looked at him with concern. The redhead who upon closer inspection had three scars across his face smiled, “Darcy, we understand your tendency to hide behind your well-bred manners, however you should probably attempt to be more agreeable with new acquaintances.”

Draco couldn’t help but furrow his brow. Who was this man and why was he speaking to him as if he were a close friend. “Well, when one has to deal with the attention seeking women, who are only interested in becoming your wife. I think you understand why I prefer to remain disagreeable when speaking to anyone I’m not intimately acquainted with. Why must you always press me into situations I’m uncomfortable in?” Looking around, Draco quickly determined that everyone, including himself, was dressed in Regency Era costumes. He figured it was best to play the part he was dressed for though he really wished he knew why they were calling him Darcy.

“Yes, well some of us are fortunate enough to be intimately acquainted with you. Darcy, how is your darling sister Georgiana doing?” The female Weasley inquired.

“Well, I have been meaning to write her. As soon as I receive her correspondence, I’ll let you know,” Draco wanted to scream. This person he was portraying had a sister. How the hell was he supposed to go along with that? He decided to ignore the conversation and read the book in his lap instead. He was well practiced in the art of ignoring others when he no longer wished to participate in inane conversations.

The exuberant redhead turned toward the other, “Brother dear, do you think we should invite Miss Bennet over? She and her younger sister were quite charming when we visited her at Netherfield the other day.  I think we should have her come and visit, however perhaps we should attend the party at Sir William Lucas’s. I have to admit what country folk lack in refinement they make up for in hospitality.”

The other redhead nodded, “Yes Caroline, I think we shall attend that party. I do believe the Bennets will be in attendance. I do look forward to dancing with Miss Bennet once more.” A smile broke across his already handsome features, and Draco only wondered what he was doing there and how he could possibly get back to the real world.

* * *

Draco walked around the delightful home of the Lucas’s. He meandered and almost gasped when he recognized the familiar features of Hermione Granger. Could she have been transported here much like he had, or was she just another figment of his imagination? He’d spent enough time in the place to realize that he was staying at the home of Longbourn, which was being rented by his good friend Bingley. Who happened to be the attractive Weasley male he’d found accompanying him along with Theo Nott, who went by the name of Mr. Hurst, while Astoria played his wife and sister to Bingley. Caroline was their youngest sister, which was a bit strange as the She-weasel was older than the younger Greengrass sister. Draco concentrated on the conversation the Hermione look alike was having with his deceased cousin. He stopped himself from shaking his head, as it wouldn’t do in polite society.

He soon found himself stepping in on conversations she was having with a Colonel who resembled his dead friend Vincent Crabbe. He had to control the knot that formed in his stomach as he approached his deceased friend. He may have treated him like an underling for many years, and he was friends with him because his and Goyle’s fathers wanted them to stick with the Malfoy heir. However, he did manage to keep them out of trouble with the older Slytherin students who may have tried to pick on them. Waves of grief consumed him, as he listened to the conversation going on around him. Hermione, who apparently was one of the Bennet sisters by the name of Elizabeth, was suggesting Colonel Forester have a ball at Meryton. Soon, she and Miss Lucas left the conversation. It was a bit before Draco followed them. He approached, but didn’t have any intention of speaking for fear of making a blunder.  Miss Lucas spoke to him regarding his listening in on the conversation which sparked Hermione to question.

“Did you not think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forester to give us a ball at Meryton?”

“I do say you were quite energetic with the subject, but one can expect that when discussing a subject that energizes a lady,” Draco smirked not sure if he responded correctly, but if this Hermione look alike were anything like the rest of them, she would be far more interested in obtaining a husband through attending balls.

Hermione’s brow furrowed for a moment, “You are severe on us.”

A smile lit up the regal Black features on his cousin’s face, “It will be _her_ turn soon to be teased. I am going to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know what follows.”

Hermione smiled, “You are a very strange creature by way of a friend! –always wanting me to play and sing before anybody and everybody! If my vanity had taken a musical turn, you would’ve been invaluable; but as it is, I’d really rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of hearing the very best performers.”

Draco’s brow furrowed as he caught a modern contraction in her speech here and there. He had found that no one, within the odd place he’d found himself; spoke but proper Queen’s English without a common contraction. Miss Lucas continue to poke and prod Hermione until she conceded, “Very well, if it must be so, it must.” She gravely glanced at Draco, “There is a find old saying, which everyone here is of course familiar with: ‘Keep your breath to cool you porridge’; and I shall keep mine to swell my song.”

Draco listened to the Hermione doppelganger sing several songs. He was quite surprised by her talent and the angel like quality to her voice. After several songs and encores, Loony Lovegood approached the Piano after her. Draco’s ears were soon grated upon by poorly executed chopsticks and a not so pleasing voice. Draco was too busy watching Hermione’s reaction and deep in thought to notice someone approaching him from his right side until the person spoke.

“What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy! There is nothing like dancing after all. I consider it as one of the first refinements of polished society.” The man was a bit portly and looked like a muggleborn wizard killed during the war.

“Ah yes, but it even the less polished society can participate in the act of dancing because even savages can dance,” Draco curtly replied.

The man only smiled, “Your friend performs delightfully,” he paused as Bingley joined the group; “and I doubt not that you are an adept in the science yourself, Mr. Darcy.”

Draco had to hold back a scoff at the idea of him singing or playing the piano before the group of strangers before him. Very few of even his acquaintances at Hogwarts knew of his skill at the piano or the vocal lessons he received as a child. Of course they went along with the dance and language lessons. The Malfoy Heir must be educated in society, as well as intellectual pursuits, for one would never knew when he shall be judged before Ministers and Royalty. However, he soon realized the man was only speaking of participating in the dance, which he was not in a mood to participate in either. “You saw me dance at Meryton, I believe, sir.”

“Yes, indeed, and received no inconsiderable pleasure from the sight. Do you often dance at St. James’s?”

Draco stopped himself from furrowing his brow as he wasn’t familiar with the place mentioned. Better to be safe than sorry lead him to respond, “Never, sir.”

“Do you not think it would be a proper compliment to the place?”

“It is a compliment I never pay to any place if I can avoid it.” Draco had a feeling that he wouldn’t be able to avoid it much longer because for some reason the man before him was grilling him. He could only wonder what his counterpart had done to offend the man so at the previous engagement.

“You have a house in town, I conclude?”

Draco simply nodded with a formal bow. He was hoping the uncomfortable conversation would end soon. If he were attending a similar event in the Wizarding World, he would have the knowledge to respond. He felt like a fish out of water in the muggle era he found himself.

However, the man didn’t seem to take his subtle hints and continued to converse with him, “I had once had some thought of fixing in town myself—for I am fond of superior society; but I did not feel quite certain that the air of London would agree with Lady Lucas.” The man paused probably hoping for a response but Draco was a bit too deep in thought to respond. So, they were somewhere in the muggle English Country during the early 1800s. Draco did notice that Hermione was approaching them and tried to fight back a blush when the portly man next to him called her over. “My dear Miss Eliza, why are you not dancing? Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure when so much beauty is before you.”

The man took Hermione’s hand and placed it in his own. He was surprised by the act but wasn’t unwilling to receive it. Perhaps he could escape from the rest of the uncomfortable situation by dancing with a familiar face. However, she quickly withdrew and spoke with a bit of contempt laced in her voice. “Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. I entreat you not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner.”

Draco attempted to take her hand but she still refused. He couldn’t help but be reminded of the same strong headed and independent Granger he knew from his reality. However, the man next to him wouldn’t have any of it as he spoke once more, “You excel so much in the dance, Miss Eliza, that it is cruel to deny me the happiness of seeing you; and though this gentleman dislikes the amusement in general, he can have no objection, I am sure, to oblige us for one half-hour.”

There was a mischievous sparkle in Hermione’s chocolate eyes that caused a shiver to run up Draco’s spine as she smiled, “Mr. Darcy is all politeness.”

“He is, indeed; but, considering the inducement, my dear Miss Eliza, we cannot wonder at his complaisance-for who would object to such a partner?”

Hermione raised an eyebrow at the colonel’s comment before turning away.  Draco couldn’t help but want to dance with her more because she’d so valiantly rejected him. He was soon accosted by the She-Weasel, “I can guess the subject of your reverie.”

The more time he spent with her the more he disliked her and thus he answered in a clipped tone, “I should imagine not.”

“You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings in the manner—in such society; and indeed I am quite of your opinion. I was never more annoyed! The insipidity, and yet the noise—the nothingness, and yet the self-importance of all those people! What would I give to hear your strictures on them!”

Draco clenched his teeth at the drivel she was spewing. How dare she think she could read him so well? Perhaps it was time to spurn her, as he could easily tell she had some sort of weird attraction to him and he wasn’t going to have anything with the look alike of Potter’s girlfriend. “I assure you, you are quite mistaken by your assessment. I was merely contemplating the influence and enjoyment a pair of fine eyes attached to the face of a lovely woman can bestow.”

Her blue eyes fixed on him, “And who might this fine lady whose inspiring such reflections be?”

Draco simply tilted his head of platinum locks, “Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

“Miss Elizabeth Bennet!” she gasped and repeated the name under her breath, “I am all astonishment. How long has she been such a favourite?—and pray, when am I to wish you joy?”

Draco’s eyes widened at the suggestion of marriage. “I guess that question is to be expected as a lady’s imagination grows exponentially. It jumps from admiring to love, form love to marriage, in but a moment of time. I had a feeling you’d be wishing me joy.”

“Nay, if you are serious about it, I shall consider the matter is absolutely settled. You will be having a charming mother-in-law, indeed; and, of course, she will always be at Pemberley with you.”

Draco maintained his composure as he gained much knowledge from the redhead’s yammering of incomprehensible possibilities. However, he did take note that Pemberley must be his alter ego’s family home. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was a magnificent as Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire. At the same time he couldn’t figure out what made the girl think she was anything compared to the chocolate eyed beauty who wouldn’t ever give him the time of day. Her counterpart was much too alike with the original from his reality. His desire only continued to grow for her with every interaction they had. He could only wonder made the little redhead think she could compare with the fine eyes belonging to Hermione Granger, especially when the sparkled with mischief. She was quick witted, quite bright, and had a large caring heart. The only drawback in his reality was her blood status and in the current reality, her family and lack of a fortune.


	3. Reflections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Series (1997-2007) and any characters and original locations within the books belong to JK Rowling. I own my original characters and my plot. I am not trying to pass any of these characters or copyrighted ideas off as my own and therefore it isn’t plagiarism or copyright infringement. Pride and Prejudice belongs to Jane Austen, I am only borrowing her world and some of her dialog.

Theo walked back into the room as Draco read from the book in his hand. Theo listened to the words with a smirk. He did have to admit that those members of society with a small fortune were plagued by gold diggers only interested in spending that money, but if a man was also attractive then even more women came out of the woodwork. Theo himself inherited his family’s wealth upon his father’s death during the war. He too had noticed the amount of females showing him attention even though his name was linked to Death Eaters. He was fortunate to have never been branded by the mark or fighting for the side. His friend Draco wasn’t as lucky, but still was being pursued by many a female, especially the Greengrass sisters.

Theo was brought out of his revelry and reflection as a gold light burst from the book and Draco disappeared within its pages. Nott quickly ran over to pick up the book and inspected the cover. In small print near a barcode was tiny writing that stated, “ _Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes is not accountable for any disappearances into fictional reality within our Joke Books when read aloud by a witch or wizard. To return, one must live the total story._ ” Theo cursed under his breath as he carried the book with him to the library to locate a non-magical counterpart to figure out what the thing was putting Draco through. He wouldn’t let the book out of his sight until Draco returned to him and to prevent any other’s from being trapped within the story.

* * *

Hermione sat in the parlor with a book in her lap as she listened to Lavender and Parvarti discussing officers and the wealth of Mr. Bingley. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the conversation and enjoy Arthur’s admonishment of their silly behavior. She had to admit that the two youngest girls’ behavior in the novel always left Hermione quite appalled. However, seeing the two giggly girls, who she’d shared a dorm room with for six years, seemed to bring a whole to level of disgust. The conversation was interrupted by the entrance of the footman with a note for Fleur. Hermione knew who the letter was from and what it would say, as she’d practically memorized the whole book with the amount of times she’d read it. Hoping for her very own Mr. Darcy, which sadly when Draco’s face was associated with the man, had become far less appealing. At the same time, she couldn’t help but wonder if Darcy’s redeeming qualities shine behind Draco’s cool and evil exterior allowing her to fall for the romantic character.

Molly fretted around Fleur while she read the note. She seemed quite excited with the sparkle in her eye and she interrupted Fleur’s reading. “Well, Jane, who is it from? What is it about? What does he say? Well, Jane, make haste and tell us; make haste, my love.”

Fleur explained that the letter was from Caroline Bingley and then proceeded to read it. The two were inviting Jane over as the gentlemen were to be dining with the officers. Upon concluding her reading Lavender exclaimed, “With the officers! I wonder why my aunt did not tell us of _that_.”

There was an unnatural sparkle in Molly’s eye, “Dining out that is very unlucky.”

Fleur raised an eyebrow, “Can I have the carriage?”

Molly smirked and it was a smirk belonging more to a Malfoy’s face than a Weasley’s, “No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it seems likely to rain; and then you must stay all night.”

Hermione sighed as she didn’t like seeing that kind of scheming look on the usually honorable and open face of Mrs. Weasley. She popped in with the required remark, “That would be a good scheme if you were sure that they would not offer to send her home.”

“Oh! But the gentlemen will have Mr. Bingley’s chaise to go to Meryton, and the Hursts have no horses to theirs.”

Fleur crossed her arms, “I had much rather go in the coach.”

Hermione observed as Molly went on the defensive, “But, my dear, your father cannot spare the horses, I am sure. They are wanted in the farm, Mr. Bennet, are they not?”

Arthur raised both of his ginger brows, “They are wanted in the farm much oftener than I can get them.”

Hermione looked up to the right corner of her eye holding back the urge to roll them, “But if you have got them today my mother’s purpose will be answered.”

Of course, as the book dictated Fleur was required to arrive at Netherfield on horseback. She hadn’t left but a short while before the rain came down in sheets. Hermione knew what was going to happen, however the other sisters seemed just as worried as the rain continued through the evening. Molly congratulated herself, “This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed!”

The following morning just as they started breakfast, Hermione received the letter from Fleur she was expecting. She read aloud how Fleur awoke with a sore throat and a headache. She knew that sounded like a cold, and in the Wizarding World that would be quickly remedied with a Pepper Up potion. She didn’t know how well it would work on that particular illness and she didn’t want to alarm the muggle characters when steam started pouring out of Fleur’s ears.

She’d finished reading the letter when Arthur looked up from his paper, “Well, my dear, if your daughter should have a dangerous fit of illness—if she should die, it would be a comfort to know that it was all in the pursuit of Mr. Bingley, and under your orders.”

Molly fanned her face at the suggestion of death, “Oh! I am not afraid of her dying. People do not die of little trifling colds. She will be taken good care of. As long as she stays there, it is all very well. I would go and see her if I could have the carriage.”

Hermione knew she needed to go to Fleur as much as Elizabeth had to rush to Jane’s side. She wasn’t much of a horse person, as it went along the same lines as flying and she really did have a fear of falling. If she were still in her reality should could’ve simply apparated there, however she still wasn’t sure if magic worked within the fiction world she currently existed. She had yet to test it. So, she was left with the remaining option much like Elizabeth, which was to walk there. She shared her intentions and received the expected response from Molly, “How can you be so silly as to think of such a thing, in all that dirt! You will not be fit to be seen when you get there.”

Hermione did roll her eyes at that comment, “I shall be very fit to see Jane—which is all I want.”

Arthur showed his concern, “Is that a hint to me, Lizzy, to send for the horses?”

Hermione smiled at the thought of attempting apparition and the quiet reflection of being alone, “No, indeed, I do not wish to avoid the walk. The distance is nothing when one has a motive; only three miles. I shall be back by dinner.”

Luna looked at her with her usually far away glint and her musical voice filled the air, “I admire the activity of your benevolence, but every impulse of feeling should be guided by reason; and, in my opinion, exertion should always be in proportion to what is required.” Hermione had to hold in her laughter that the young woman who usually spoke of such illogical and fabricated things was lecturing on the need for logic.

Hermione hoped to ditch Lavender and Parvati, however much like the book they offered to walk with her to Meryton, so they could visit with the officers. She let out a relieved sigh when they parted their ways and she continued to walk toward Netherfield. As soon as she was under the cover of the more treed area along the way, she pulled out her trusty wand and attempted apparition. She quickly determined that the book had built in apparition wards. She couldn’t help but wonder if it had anything to do with George trying to make sure that one didn’t just easily escape, and be stuck with going through the full story before being released. She was able to conclude after performing a few simple spells along the way that magic did work within the story world, however anything that would help with travel or escape wasn’t allowed. She planned to send a stinging hex George’s way the next time she saw him.

She put her wand back where she’d retrieved it from and found that she enjoyed her walk through the country. By the time she reached the estate, she had dirty stockings, but she had a healthy flush and she felt energized. She was shown into the breakfast-parlor, where the Bingley party was present. She quickly found Ginny and Astoria both looking down upon her dirty stockings and petticoats. They all seemed quite shocked that she would’ve walked three miles, so early, and with so much mud after the rain they had the night before.

Hermione smiled to herself as she thought about all of the times she walked all over the Hogwarts grounds even when it was raining. Though she had magic at her disposal and cleaning her clothes weren’t too much of a chore. Also, she quickly realized how appalled the two ladies before her would be if they ever found out about her running around with her two best friends and roughing it in the woods as they tracked down bits of an evil mans soul. She knew that was something she wouldn’t discuss in their world. It just wouldn’t do for a lady to run around with two gentlemen if she were not married to or the sister of one of them. She couldn’t help but wonder if such archaic and oppressive customs still existed within Pure-Blood Wizarding Society.

Hermione was a little shocked when Draco spoke more than the little bit that Mr. Darcy did in the book. He looked at her, “Miss Bennet, the flush of your cheeks is quite lovely. I do say an early morning walk does wonders for your beauty, and somehow the mud seems to suit you.”

Hermione furrowed her brow wondering why the Draco Malfoy version of her Mr. Darcy would be so much different from the Jane Austen version. Why would that one character deviate from the dialogue she had memorized when none of the other characters she’d encountered never did. She shook her head, clearing her mind of the questions. The scene continued to play out where she was advised of Fleur’s feverish state and she was happy to escape the possible company of a too real Draco and to the bedside of her infirmed sister. So much for Darcy’s redeeming qualities shining through. She spent the majority of the day in the room with the sick Fleur. The apothecary came and advised that Fleur had caught a severe cold, left some draughts, and suggested she remain in bed. At the mention of draughts, Hermione thought of the various healing potions, and cold remedies. She didn’t wish to forever change the Jane Austen world, however she hated seeing Fleur in such a state when she’d already lost so many of her other friends.

When the three o’clock bell sounded, she played her role by stating that she should head home. However, Fleur requested much like Jane did, when she wished her not to leave her side. So the chaise was sent with a servant to advise the Bennets and fetch some clothes. Come dinner time Hermione noticed the concerned look and anxiety on Bill’s face. His feelings for Fleur were apparent as he asked about her health. Astoria and Ginny didn’t show much concern but made comments about how much they detested being sick. On a couple of occasions, she noticed a smirk or a roll of the eyes from Draco. She decided to observe him more wondering if his character breaks here and there were her imagination or if they were really occurring.


	4. Summoning Charms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Series (1997-2007) and any characters and original locations within the books belong to JK Rowling. I own my original characters and my plot. I am not trying to pass any of these characters or copyrighted ideas off as my own and therefore it isn’t plagiarism or copyright infringement. Pride and Prejudice belongs to Jane Austen, I am only borrowing her world and some of her dialog.

Nott had checked out the Hogwarts copy of _Pride and Prejudice_. He had always been a fast reader and got through the story within a couple of hours. He had a feeling what the note meant when it stated “read aloud” was that reading the original book without speaking the words wouldn’t suck him into the story, and fortunately for him his assumption was correct. He read about Hermione’s walk through the country side and attempting a few spells. Her thoughts were even depicted in the words of the text and he soon realized that magic worked within the story and any deviation from the original story lead to a change in the story in the Weasley version. Nott chuckled at the idea of what changes Draco and Hermione could make to the story he’d just read. Also, knowing his friend as much as he did, he wrote a quick note and slipped it in the Hogwarts copy of the book. He then placed both of the books in the pocket of his robes.

He smiled when a few moments later the original copy of the Jane Austen work disappeared from his pocket. He shook his head and opened the book, wondering how Draco would react when he read the letter from him. Would the cool façade of his friend fade when he realized the Elizabeth Bennet in the story was none other than the actual Hermione Granger from his world? Nott couldn’t shake the feeling that the two might come out of the story similar to the original characters. However, all happy thoughts were lost when he realized his character version in the novel was married to none other than Astoria Greengrass. He quickly closed the book as he felt his stomach lurch. There was no way he would ever marry one of the Greengrass leeches, as they were just as bad as Pansy Parkinson or Lavender Brown. He preferred someone with a bit more intelligence.

* * *

Draco tried not to pay too much attention to the Hermione look alike, though he couldn’t quite keep his eyes from wandering over to her every once in a while. He was quite pleased when she returned to her sister Jane right after dinner.  Upon her leaving the room the she-weasel spoke horribly her in her absence. She explained how her manners were impaling; she had no conversational abilities, no style, and no beauty. Astoria took note of the ginger’s comments and added, “She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being an excellent walker. I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really looked almost wild.”

The she-weasel’s brown eyes lit with agreement, “She did, indeed, Louisa. I could hardly keep my countenance. Very nonsensical to come at all! Why must _she_ be scampering about the country, because her sister had a cold? Her hair, so untidy, so blowsy!”

Draco couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the conversation between the two women. It reminded him much of the conversations he’d overheard from Pansy Parkinson and the Greengrass sisters. However, the conversation really didn’t seem to fit the personality of the tomboyish Weasley. He was quite appalled to hear such insipid dialogue flying out of her mouth faster than her bat-boogie hex. He knew for certain that she was only an imprint on the character much like Theo’s character. The man had nothing of substance to the well versed and knowledgeable counterpart back at the castle. The look alike that stood before him was a cheap copy that didn’t have any of the features of the real Theo. He shook his head as he noticed a question was directed at him by Miss Bingley, “ _You_ observed it, Mr. Darcy, I am sure, and I am inclined to think that you would not wish to see _your_ sister make such an exhibition.”

The blond swallowed for a moment as he thought over the question. Knowing how negatively the horrible woman before him was speaking, he couldn’t help but answer in the manner expected of him and the character he was portraying, “Absolutely not.”

However, if he knew it would cause her to continue on about her degradation of the Hermione imposter, then he wouldn’t have responded at all. Her nose was slightly scrunched in disgust as she spoke, “To walk three miles, or four miles, or five miles, or whatever it is, above her ankles in dirt, and alone, quite alone! What could she mean by it? It seems to me to show and abominable sort of conceited independence, a most country-town indifference to decorum.”

The long haired ginger cut in, “It shows an affection for her sister that is very pleasing.”

Draco attempted to mask his cringe when Miss Bingley half whispered to him, “I am afraid, Mr. Darcy, that this adventure has rather affected your admiration of her fine eye.”

In that simple sentence, the Gryffindor Chaser gave away her hand. He understood completely why she was speaking so poorly of Eliza Bennet, as she was jealous that he’d admitted to her previously that he’d been admiring Hermione’s mischief filled brown eyes. He used his cold and emotionless tone, “Not at all, as her eyes were brightened by the exercise.”

Astoria’s eyes widened before she continued with the conversation, “I have an excessive regard for Miss Jane Bennet, she is really a very sweet girl, and I wish with all my heart she were well settled. But with such a father and mother, and such low connections, I am afraid there is no chance of it.”

Theo popped in with an unusual observation, “I think I have heard you say that their uncle is an attorney on Meryton.”

Astoria smiled, “Yes; and they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside.”

“That is capital,” her sister added before the two of them burst into fits of giggles.

Draco understood this conversation as growing up with wealth; one always discussed the business of marriage. However, in the Wizarding world among the elite, one’s blood status was considered before one’s wealth. Bingley didn’t seem too happy about his sister’s making fun of his love interest as he defended, “If they had uncles enough to fill _all_ Cheapside, it would not make them on jot less agreeable.”

* * *

It was late before Hermione left her sisters side and joined his group down stairs. She seemed to walk past the card game going on in the room and stated that she’d much rather read a book. Draco had to force himself not to smirk at her reading, as Hermione was well known for all of her “light reading” at Hogwarts.

However, when she declined Theo’s dark eyes filled with astonishment, which didn’t fit the real person’s personality, “Do you prefer reading to cards? That is rather singular.”

Harry Potter’s girlfriend answered for her, “Miss Eliza Bennet despises cards. She is a great reader, and has no pleasure in anything else.”

For a moment, Draco thought he saw a glare grace Hermione’s features before she refuted the other woman’s previous statement, “I deserve neither such praise nor such censure. I am _not_ a great reader, and I have pleasure in many things.”

The smitten ginger looked up, “In nursing your sister I am sure you have pleasure and I hope it will be soon increased by seeing her quite well.”

“Thank you,” Hermione smiled and approached a table where a few book lie.

Bingley followed her and offered to fetch her anything her heart desired from his library, “And I wish my collection were larger for your benefit and my own credit; but I am an idle fellow, and though I have not many, I have more than I ever looked into.”

“That is quite alright. I’m quite able to make do with the books present.”

Draco felt his stomach churn as the sickening woman up there with Parkinson and the Greengrass sisters turned toward him, “I am astonished that my father should have left so small a collection of books. What a delightful library you have at Pemberley, Mr. Darcy!”

Draco did roll his eyes knowing the proper statement to her blatant attempt at flattery, “It ought to be as it’s the work of many generations.” He knew the same could be said about the vast library at Malfoy Manor; however it surely contained far different books than of what the muggle characters spoke.

She didn’t stop there with the flattery, “And then you have added so much to it yourself, you are always buying books.”

“I would never neglect the family library in days like these.” He knew that he purchased quite a few books and had added them to the library when he was done reading them. Knowledge could be found within the books, and it was always important to have that accessible for future generations.

Her voice rose in pitch reminiscent of the whining of Pansy and it grated on Draco’s ears as much as it affected his nerves, “Neglect! I am sure you neglect nothing that can add to the beauties of that noble place. Charles, when you build _your_ house, I wish it may be half as delightful as Pemberley.”

Her brother looked up, “I wish it may.”

Draco clenched his teeth as the annoying twittering beside him continued, “But I would really advise you to make your purchase in that neighborhood, and take Pemberley for a kind of model. There is not a finer county in England than Derbyshire.”

His eyes twinkled with amusement, “With all my heart; I will buy Pemberley itself if Darcy will sell it.”

She crossed her arms and pouted like a petulant child, “I am talking of possibilities, Charles.”

One red eyebrow rose and his arm quickly crossed his heart to show sincerity, “Upon my word, Caroline, I should think it more possible to get Pemberley by purchase than by imitation.”

Hermione set the book down and approached the card table. She took a seat next to Bingley and Astoria and seemed to be observing the game. Draco much rather stare at her features from across the table than listen to anymore of the blood traitors inane flattery and flirting, but alas the vapid little thing continued on with the conversation. “Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring? Will she be as tall as I am?”

That question threw Draco for a moment as he’d yet to meet Darcy’s sister, he had nothing to go off of, and so when in doubt he did what he does best, he lied. “I think she will. Currently she’s about the height of Miss Elizabeth Bennet or perhaps a bit taller.”

The excitement laced her voice as her conversation picked up in speed, again another annoying trait that made Draco want to stupefy the woman just so she’d shut up, “How I long to see her again! I never met with anybody who delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such manners! And so extremely accomplished for her age! Her performance on the pianoforte is exquisite.”

A smile spread across the easy going red head’s face as he spoke, “It is amazing to me how young ladies can have patience to be so very accomplished as they all are.”

The she-weasel’s eyes light up as she gasped, “All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?”

The scarred man nodded, “Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, and net purses. I scarcely know anyone who cannot do all this, and I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished.”

Draco felt the need to speak, “You seem to generalize the concept of accomplished my friend. I fear I know not more than six, in all of my acquaintance that are truly accomplished.”

The bane of his existence was quick to agree, “Nor I, I am sure.”

Hermione clasped her hands on the table and leaned forward, “Then you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, “Yes, I do.”

Miss Bingley popped in with more, “Oh! Certainly no one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half-deserved.”

Draco agreed with her for the first time that night. He knew that if he did have a sister she would’ve been taught all of that, however there was something the woman beside him forgot, “Yes, she must possess all of that as well as having a great knowledge from extensive reading.” He wanted to sigh because his last statement really did speak for the Know-it-all Granger, however he was sure she lacked the musical training, but then again didn’t he see her sing but days before? He shook his head and reminded himself that was just the character and thus didn’t speech for the witch back in his reality.

Hermione’s eyes met his and there seemed something more behind them, as if she were personally challenging him, “I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing _any_.”

“Are you so severe on your own gender’s ability?” It popped out of his mouth before he could think. Did she really think that it was impossible for women to exist as described in the pure-blood elite? He knew that she was not of that group, and if she really were the Mudblood Granger then her modern Muggle World would be appalled by what was described.

“I never saw such a woman. I never saw such capacity, and taste, and application, and elegance, as you described united.”

Draco nodded in agreement that Hermione would’ve never met a woman as describe as none surely existed in the neighborhood she grew up in. However Astoria and the she-weasel were busy crying out and complaining like children. Should women their age surely act in such a manner? He couldn’t help but wonder before Theo called them to order and Draco sighed with relief when the noise came to a close.  The conversation ended and Hermione excused herself from the room.

As soon as the door closed behind her, the she devil decided to make another remark, “Elizabeth Bennet is one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other sex by undervaluing their own; and with many men, I dare say, it succeeds. But, in my opinion, it is a paltry device, a very mean art.”

Draco agreed remembering all of the little tricks Slytherin women were using since he’d returned to Hogwarts to secure him as their husband. “Undoubtedly, however I find meanness in all of the arts women implore to present a lack of intelligence to receive the captivation of another. Though I may sometimes value cleverness and cunning, I have no desire to be manipulated.”

When Hermione returned she stated that her sister had gotten worse and that she didn’t feel comfortable with leaving her. The healer, Mr. Jones, was to be sent for if she didn’t seem better in the morning. Draco could tell that his red headed acquaintance and Darcy’s friend was quite concerned and taken with the older Bennet sister.  He also noticed his friend instruct his housekeeper to keep an eye on the sick lady and her sister. Seeing as much affection the man before him showed for such a new acquaintance, made Draco a bit jealous. Why couldn’t he develop such feelings for a woman? Why was he so closed off and unwilling to find fondness in the opposite sex? He had a fascination with Hermione Granger, but knew that no one would look favorable up on such a match.  He shook his head realizing he needed to retire as the conversations he’d partaken had affected his own thinking. He hadn’t thought in full Queen’s English since he was a young boy.

* * *

Draco sat in his private quarters that night. Thinking of the conversations that had passed during the day, and remembering his wand. He’d found it in his pant pocket not to long after he acclimated to his new reality. He couldn’t help but wonder if the magic worked within the muggle reality and automatically attempted to apparate out, however the creator of the book must’ve put anti-apparition wards on it. He was able to light the lantern in his room with a simple spell. He wondered how much easier it would be to play the Darcy character if he knew what he was supposed to say and  the plot of the book. A thought quickly struck him as he realized that summing charms weren’t usually warded against. He raised his unicorn hair core wand, Harry had given back to him after mending his phoenix feather wand, and muttered, “ _Accio Pride and Prejudice book_.” He was surprised to see that a copy of the book landed in his hand only a second later. He mused that it must’ve somehow been somewhere close. He was even more shocked when he opened the book and found the label from Hogwarts. So, he could summon things from his reality. He filed that fact to the back of his mind as he read the folded piece of parchment within the book.

_Draco,_

_If you are reading this it means you’re as predictable as always. If you have yet to realize it, the Elizabeth Bennet within the book is the same Hermione Granger from our reality. She was sucked in before you decided to read from the book. Apparently it’s a gift from George Weasley, and it’s charmed to suck a person in when it is read from aloud. I haven’t opened the book since for fear of finding the same fate. After reading the original story, I don’t think I would survive in that reality. Unfortunately, you have to play out the whole store before you’re released. So, enjoy your alone time with Hermione. I don’t know if she’s realized you’re the real Draco and no longer the subconscious imprint on the character Darcy, the book started out with. I suggest you read this and get acquainted with the story as soon as possible._

_Your friend,_

_Theo_

Draco wanted to throw the book against the wall. How could he get sucked into this romance novel with Hermione Granger? Were they going to be trapped together forever if they didn’t reach the end of the story the way the author intended it? Would he have to play along with it? Wasn’t he already playing along with it?  He’d found himself attracted to her upon entry. He sighed and lay down on his bed as he read the beginning of the story. He laughed as he read the slighting of Elizabeth Bennet at the hands of Mr. Darcy. The previous encounter with Hermione made more sense. Ah of course, Mr. Darcy was misunderstood. Draco smirked as he read that Mrs. Bennet, which he saw as portrayed by the Weasley matriarch, had sent Jane to them on horseback knowing they wouldn’t send her home because of the rain. He never thought the Weasley woman had a conniving bone in her body. All in an attempt to bag Mr. Bingley as a husband, he let out a sigh and fell asleep with the book still open and the thought of how close to his reality the story really was.  


	5. Analyzing Draco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Harry Potter Series (1997-2007) and any characters and original locations within the books belong to JK Rowling. I own my original characters and my plot. I am not trying to pass any of these characters or copyrighted ideas off as my own and therefore it isn’t plagiarism or copyright infringement. Pride and Prejudice belongs to Jane Austen, I am only borrowing her world and some of her dialog.

Theo laughed at the changes already occurring within the literary work. He kept reading as it changed because time passed quicker within the book reality. He read Draco’s reaction to his note and started reading the visit of Mrs. Bennet and the two youngest sisters. He didn’t want to just skip ahead because the changes were made to the book as they happened, so reading ahead would do him no good. Though Draco seemed to follow the script, his thoughts weren’t censured and they were quite amusing. In the end, Theo was unable to determine if it was Draco’s or Hermione’s thoughts that were more entertaining. Hermione was familiar with the story; however she came from a completely different world. Draco was familiar with the society; however he didn’t have the book memorized word for word as Granger did. He smiled and set the book down for a moment, grabbed some parchment, and a quill. He couldn’t help but wonder what the surviving Weasley Twin would say when he found out Hermione was trapped in the book with Draco and they were each portraying one of the romantic leads. A mischievous smile lit his features as he composed the note. The twin would be to blame for the two of them getting together, which from the chemistry he was reading within the pages, was likely to happen.

* * *

Hermione sat at the breakfast table in the parlor along with Molly, Parvarti, and Lavender.  Bill met them there and inquired on the health of Fleur. Hermione could see his affection for Jane better within the world than from reading the written words within the written pages. Molly smiled at his concern, “Indeed I have, sir. She is a great deal too ill to be moved. Mr. Jones says we must not think of moving her. We must trespass a little longer on your kindness.”

Bills eyes widened in shock as he exclaimed, “Removed! It must not be thought of. My sister, I am sure, will not hear of her removal.”  Hermione couldn’t help but smile at his deflection, knowing quite well that it was he that wouldn’t dare have her removed. His sister was just the excuse he used.

“You may depend upon it, Madam, that Miss Bennet will receive every possible attention while she remains with us,” Ginny assured.

Molly agreed wholeheartedly before continuing, “I am sure if it was not for such good friends I do not know what would become of her, for she is very ill indeed, and suffers a vast deal, though with the greatest patience in the world, which is always the way with her, for she has, without exception, the sweetest temper I have ever met with. I often tell my other girls they are nothing to _her_. You have a sweet room here, Mr. Bingley, and a charming prospect over the gravel walk. I do not know a place in the country that is equal to Netherfield. You will not think of quitting it in a hurry, I hope, though you have but a short lease.”

Bill smiled at her and announced, “Whatever I do is done in a hurry and therefore if I should resolve to quit Netherfield, I should probably be off in five minutes. At present, however, I consider myself as quite fixed here.”

Hermione smiled and played her part. She couldn’t help but see the foreshadowing in his words as he would surely soon be dragged away from Fleur by his sisters and Darcy. However, she began her banter, “That is exactly what I should have supposed of you.”

He turned his blue eyes upon her and they reminded her so much of Ron, but she still was unsure of her feelings for him, “You begin to comprehend me, do you?”

Her eyes widened, “Oh! Yes—I understand you perfectly.”

“I wish I might take this for a compliment; but to be so easily seen though I am afraid is pitiful.”

She continued to stare at the eldest Weasley brother, “That is as it happens. It does not follow that a deep, intricate character is more or less estimable than such a one as yours.”

“Lizzy, remember where you are, and do not run on in the wild manner that you are suffered to do at home,” Molly admonished.

Bill seemed to ignore Molly and continued with the banter, “I did not know before that you were a studier of character. It must be an amusing study.”

Hermione mentally smiled. She almost wanted to say that there is a whole new science devoted to the study of human behavior; however she knew that Psychology had yet to be developed. It was the early 19th century and not the later part of the century when the delving into the human psyche first began. She nodded, “Yes, but intricate characters are the _most_ amusing. They have at least that advantage.”

Draco smirked and had a sparkle in his gray eyes, “The country can in general supply but a few subjects for such a study. In a country neighbourhood you move in a very confined and unvarying society.”

“But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be observed in them for ever.” Hermione studied him as she spoke. She stared into those gray eyes wondering if her suspicions from the day before were correct.

Molly jumped in offended, “Yes, indeed. I assure you there is quite as much of _that_ going on in the country as in town.” Everyone at the table was surprised except for Hermione because she knew what to expect. Draco turned away from her and Molly continued, “I cannot see that London has any great advantage over the country, for my part, except the shops and public places. The country is a vast deal pleasanter, is it not, Mr. Bingley?”

Bill took the bait, “When I am in the country I never wish to leave it; and when I am in town it is pretty much the same. They have each their advantages, and I can be equally happy in either.”

Molly gave one of her loving smiles to Bill, “Aye—that is because you have the right disposition. But that gentleman,” she looked pointedly at Draco, “seemed to think the country was nothing at all.”

Draco made eye contact with Hermione for a moment causing her to blush, “Indeed, Mamma, you are mistaken. You quite mistook Mr. Darcy. He only meant that there was not such a variety of people to be met with in the country as in the town, which you must acknowledge to be true.”

Molly patted the bookworm’s shoulder, “Certainly, my dear, nobody said there were; but as to not meeting with many people in this neighbourhood, I believe there are few neighbourhoods larger. I know we dine with four-and-twenty families.”

Hermione noticed how Ginny looked at Draco and could only fathom what exactly what she was thinking, however as to not allow for more discomfort for the others she asked if her friend Charlotte Lucas had visited while she was away.

Molly went into her long speech about how she’d arrived the day before but also went into how she found Mr. Lucas much more agreeable than men who think themselves too important to open their mouths. Ah, yes Hermione blocked out the rant, in which, Mrs. Bennet continues to attack Darcy’s character while he was sitting before her at the table.  She popped in with her proper response whenever there was a pause, “Did Charlotte dine with you?”

Molly went on about how she went home and the plainness of the Lucas daughters.

Bill furrowed his brow, “She seems a very pleasant young woman.”

Molly responded by going into Fleur’s beauty and shared the story about a man showing interest in her when she was only fifteen. Again, Hermione blocked out the story as she found herself drawn into Draco’s gray eyes. There was something behind them that gave way to knowledge beyond the written words of the story. However, he didn’t defer from the script of the book like he had the day before. It was possible that George made some slight changes to the Darcy character to keep her wondering about the person chosen by her mind to play him.  Would George be that cruel to her? Why would he want her to believe that her Mr. Darcy was the slimy git?

She heard Molly speak of the poetry the man wrote to Jane and again spoke her proper piece, “And so ended his affection. There has been many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I wonder who first discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving away love!”

“I have been used to consider poetry as the _food_ of love.” The patented Malfoy smirk crossed his face.

“Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Everything nourishes what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it away.” Hermione kept her eyes on Draco because something told her he’d give something away to confirm her suspicions.

Draco just smiled at her remaining quiet, which was expected of the character. With the silence, Hermione stayed in character and ignored her mother’s continued thanks to Mr. Bingley. Finally the time came for Molly, Parvati, and Lavender to leave. Lavender looked right at Bill while getting into the carriage, “Mr. Bingley, I do believe you promised us a ball at Netherfield.”

“I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to keep my engagement; and when your sister is recovered, you shall, if you please, name the very day of the ball. But you would not wish to be dancing when she is ill.”

Lavender shook her head and tried to appear as serious as possible, “Oh! Yes—it would be much better to wait till Jane was well, and by that time most likely Captain Cater would be at Meryton again. And when you have given your ball, I shall insist on their giving one also. I shall tell Colonel Forester it will be quite a shame if he does not.”

* * *

The days continued to pass with Hermione attending to Fleur during the day and joining their party at night. She was seriously considering giving Fleur a Pepper-up Potion and deal with the consequences, as she didn’t think she could handle being under the same roof as Astoria and an awful characterization of Ginny. Her Gryffindor friend was nothing like the character who stole her appearance. She couldn’t help but wonder if that one was selected for her by George to slight his baby sister. That night however, things progressed the way they should and she arrived downstairs to Draco writing a letter and Ginny hovering around him admiring his handwriting.

Hermione took up the needlepoint and watched what was transpiring between Ginny and Draco. She continued to watch and see if he’d give himself away. She could tell that the constant complimenting and flirting on Ginny’s part was frustrating him.  Her constantly suggesting he add something to the letter to his sister. However, Draco seemed to be ignoring her as much as Darcy did in the book. She couldn’t help but muse if somehow Draco had read the book. Her mind flashed as she wondered if Summoning spells were allowed. She knew she’d have to try it later. She might just have to summon her journal, so she could take notes about the inaccuracies between Austen’s Darcy and the one appearing in the Weasley version of the story.

Ginny voice was overly excited, “How delighted Miss Darcy will be to receive such a letter!” When Draco didn’t take the bait she continued, “You write uncommonly fast.”

Hermione could almost swear she saw Draco’s eyes narrow, “You are mistaken. I write rather slowly.”

“How many letters you must have occasion to write in the course of a year! Letters of business, too! How odious I should think them!”

Draco rolled his eyes and Hermione stifled a laugh, “It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of yours.”

“Pray tell you sister that I long to see her.”

Draco clenched his jaw, “I have already told her so once, by your desire.”

Ginny pouted, “I am afraid you do not like your pen. Let me mend it for you. I mend pens remarkably well.”

Draco looked back down at the letter and muttered, “Thank you—but I always mend my own.”

“How can you contrive to write so even?”

Draco just continued writing and remained silent. The grip on his pen tightened.

“Tell your sister I am delighted to hear of her improvement on the harp; and pray let her know that I am quite in raptures with her beautiful little design for a table, and I think it infinitely superior to Miss Grantley’s.”

Draco looked up with angry fire flickering in the back of his gray eyes, “Will you give me leave to defer your raptures till I write again? At present I have not room to do them justice.”

Ginny covered her mouth before moving to her collar bone, “Oh! It is of no consequence. I shall see her in January. But do you always write such charming long letters to her, Mr. Darcy?”

He closed his eyes and rubbed them with the thumb and forefinger of his left hand, “They are generally long; but whether always charming it is not for me to determine.”

Ginny didn’t seem to be properly reading his body language as she continued with her complimenting, “It is a rule with me, that a person who can write a long letter with ease, cannot write ill.”

Hermione was delighted when Bill finally stepped in. She couldn’t fathom watching Draco suffer under the ministrations of Ginny’s doppelganger for much longer. The redhead’s voice was full of humor, “That will not do for a compliment to Darcy, Caroline, because he does _not_ write with ease. He studies too much for words of four syllables. Do not you, Darcy?”

“My style of writing is very different from yours.” Draco admitted. The conversation continued to flow as it was scripted in her favorite novel. Though Hermione loved reading the banter, logical observations, and intellectual discourse, she could tell that Draco was growing more flustered under the pressure to say everything just right. She took note of the obvious fluster, which didn’t seem to fit with her image of the character. She told herself she’d add that to her journal list once she retrieved her book.

* * *

Hermione retired to the guest room she was staying in near the sickly Jane’s. She shut her door, took out her wand, and spoke clearly, “ _Accio Hermione’s Journal_.” The simple black leather bound book appeared in her hands a few moments later. She opened her last entry and was shocked when she found a folded parchment in the binding. It was a letter from George and it seemed that someone from the outside had written two him regarding her situation.

_Hermione,_

_If you are reading this, then you have discovered the summoning ability. I knew of your journal and figured it would most likely be the one thing you would attempt to summon. I’ve been recently informed that a ferret infestation has occurred. Someone is keeping the book safe for you, but won’t tell me where. Also, if you have found this letter in your journal, it means that Kreacher has properly followed my directions. I don’t know why, but that elf will do anything for you. He is so willing to help you and you’re not even his master._

_I digress, I’m not sure if you read the fine print on the back of the book before you read the first passage aloud. I doubt that you did, as you are currently trapped within the story. I figured with everything we’ve been through in the past year, it would be good for people to get away. So, Ron’s stuck gallivanting through Narnia, Harry’s running around with the Three Musketeers, and Ginny’s having the time of her life as Alice in Through the Looking Glass. I hope that you are enjoying your story and just so you know everything you do while you’re in there will be recorded for your prosperity. Oh and the automatic entry charm from reading the words aloud is disabled upon completion. You will not be able to return to that world unless you purchase another book. Fred and I came up with these books last year shortly after Bill and Fleur’s wedding, while everything was so dark. We just thought it would be nice to get away from reality every once in a while. Also, if you haven’t figured it out, the only magic warded against in the book is apparition. You may use any hex, curse, or jinx necessary when dealing with the incredible bouncing ferret. You know if he gets too out of line, but I do believe Eliza Bennet ends up wrapping Mr. Darcy around her finger by the end of the book. I do wonder if life will follow imitation or whatever that muggle saying is._

_You might as well let him know the gig is up because he already knows that you’re the real you. I believe one of his friends tipped him off by including a note in a copy of the actual book. He somehow knew that Malfoy would attempt to summon it. I guess he knows Malfoy as well as I know you, so I guess I kind of got the idea from him. However, the boy didn’t have to gloat about discovering the book and not getting trapped in it because he read the fine print. Of course, I think he just saw Malfoy get sucked in and was more cautious as usual. Well take care and put Malfoy’s bollocks in a vice grip for me, will ya?_

_Love,_

_George_

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh. She knew from that moment that she was going to make things harder for Draco. Perhaps she should wait until they finally dance together after she has the privilege of meeting her future brother in law Wickham. She still didn’t know whose face would appear when that vial man entered the picture, and she couldn’t help but wonder how far ahead Draco was in his reading of the story; however she still wondered exactly how he ended up in the book.  Perhaps Draco had somehow arrived back with Theo after she was sucked into the book. Why would he be silly enough to pick up a book that belonged to someone else and read it aloud? Ah, reality struck her, as she knew that Draco would find familiarity in the opening passage, as she was aware that he was being chased after by many girls within the walls of Hogwarts. They were all after him to be their boyfriend so that they could become the next Lady Malfoy. The idea of it always sickened Hermione, but she found the same things occurring with her friends, Ron for being a part of the Golden Trio, and Harry because he was the Chosen One.  She fell asleep in bed with the journal tucked under her pillow.


	6. Riddled with Defects

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Series (1997-2007) and any characters and original locations within the books belong to JK Rowling. I own my original characters and my plot. I am not trying to pass any of these characters or copyrighted ideas off as my own and therefore it isn’t plagiarism or copyright infringement. Pride and Prejudice belongs to Jane Austen, I am only borrowing her world and some of her dialog.

Theo continued to read the book and tried to hold back the tears forming in his eyes at Draco’s thoughts about killing, maiming, and overall harming the annoying Ginny Weasley. Of course, Theo knew Ginny well enough from their day to day interactions that she acted nothing like the character Miss Bingley. He knew that he’d be just as frustrated with the ever so flirtatious complimenting and jealous woman. She was lucky it wasn’t him there because he would’ve used the killing curse on her by that point. Draco, on the other hand was not quite aware that Hermione knew about his presence in the novel. He was still trying to play his part, so that she wouldn’t find out it really was him and hex him.

Theo hoped that she used the opportunity before her to get him to talk. He knew that there was so much that Draco was keeping in side. There was still so many conflicting emotions storming within his friend, and hopefully the brightest witch of their age could do something about it. George had responded to his letter telling him that the books were designed to give those who’d suffered most in the war the opportunity for escape from the harsh reality. Theo couldn’t help but wonder if that was why some of their deceased friends were portraying the characters. He was just thankful that Vincent’s character didn’t interact more in the novel with Mr. Darcy. He really didn’t think Draco could handle seeing his dead friend too often, and he couldn’t help but wonder how Hermione was coping with the amount of interaction she had to have with her dead friend Tonks.

* * *

Draco was at the end of his rope, the female Weasley in real life wasn’t nearly as annoying as the giddy and jealous girl before him. However, it was like she had been mixed with Pansy and the Greengrass sisters. She was overly caddy and attempted to provoke him or overly complement him. A man can only handle so many comments about a bloody letter he’s writing before he snaps. He was relieved that the long haired Weasley and Hermione decided to interject before he exploded from her attention. He hated being in her presence when Hermione wasn’t present like the moment he was currently experiencing. Of course, it was his fault for going on a walk through the shrubbery with her. What the hell was he thinking? Well he was following the bloody book, so he could get away from the torture.

“I hope you will give your mother-in-law a few hints, when this desirable event takes place, as to the advantage of holding her tongue; and if you can compass it, do sure the younger girls of running after officers. And, if I may mention so delicate a subject, endeavor to check that little something, bordering on conceit and impertinence, which your lady possesses.”

Draco looked ahead as they walked arm in arm, “Have you anything else to propose for my domestic felicity?”

“Oh! Yes. Do let the portraits of your Uncle and Aunt Phillips be placed in the gallery at Pemberley. Put them next to your great-uncle the judge. They are in the same profession, you know, only in different lines. As for your Elizabeth’s picture, you must not have it taken, for what painter could do justice to those beautiful eyes?”

“It would not be easy, indeed, to catch their expression, but their colour and shape, and the eyelashes, so remarkably fine, might be copied,” he was seriously enjoying goading her as much as she attempted to goad him. However, the character didn’t understand that he had been staring at Hermione’s eyes since fourth year when she arrived to the Yule Ball on Victor Krum’s arm.

After that last comment, Astoria and Hermione joined them on their walk where Ginny feigned ignorance, “I did not know that you intended to walk.”

“You used us abominably ill running away without telling us that you were coming out,” Astoria lightly pouted. She then left Elizabeth to walk by herself as she took Draco’s open arm and that path was too narrow for more than three to walk.

Draco spoke up on Hermione’s behalf. He couldn’t believe how rude the other two were being, “This walk is not wide enough for our party. We had better go into the avenue.”

“No, no; stay where you are. You are charmingly grouped, and appear to uncommon advantage. The picturesque would be spoilt by admitting a fourth. Good-bye.” She happily ran off without them. Draco noticed that Jane was getting better as if she’d been administered a Pepper up Potion. He couldn’t help but wonder if Hermione was trying to hurry along Jane’s recovery because she wanted to get away from him. He really wished she would’ve stayed with him longer because he was quickly getting sick of being surrounded by the Bingley sisters, as they reminded him too much of girls from his house. If he was going to escape from reality, he’d rather not have to deal with the same crap in the fictional world he escaped to. Sure, it was an accident, but he was already sick of being chased.

* * *

That evening Jane seemed well enough to be sitting in the Parlor with the other three ladies when he and the other two gentlemen arrived. Draco followed the scene as he read it in the book. He declined the card game, where the she-weasel followed him to the corner of the room he sat and informed Theo that no one was to play cards that night. Theo seemed rather bored since there was nothing to do and lay down upon the sofa and went to sleep. The other male Weasley was busy speaking with Jane, who still seemed somehow familiar to Draco, though he was yet to place her face or remember her name from his reality. The two of them were merrily chatting like any courting couple would.  Draco selected a book to read, which was once again written in Latin. Astoria flitted around to where Jane and her brother sat and would join in with their conversation now and then when she wasn’t busy admiring her own bracelets. However, Draco wished the Gryffindor Chaser would pay attention to her book more than his own. She would look over Draco’s shoulder and ask a question about what he was reading. He clenched his jaw as he never liked anyone looking over his shoulder. He didn’t like her close proximity because he didn’t trust her and he didn’t like having people he didn’t trust within his personal space.

The annoying redhead showed her boredom with her book, which she chose according to the novel, was because it was the second volume to the book he was reading by yawning, “How pleasant it is to spend an evening in this way! I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a book! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library.”

Draco pinched the bridge of the nose as he continued to look down at his book. He could tell that she was insinuating that she’d love to marry him and have the Pemberley Library for her own. When no one in the room responded to her conversation starter and set her book down. Her eyes rounded the room and she spoke about her brother’s comment about a ball, “By the bye, Charles, are you really serious in meditating a dance at Netherfield? I would advise you, before you determine on it, to consult the wishes of the present party; I am much mistaken if there are not some among us to whom a ball would be rather a punishment than a pleasure.”

Her brother’s blue eyes shot to her and he smiled, “If you mean Darcy, he may go to bed, if he chooses, before it begins—but as for the ball, it is quite a settled thing; and as soon as Nicholls has made white soup enough, I shall send round my cards.”

The horrible woman continued with her complaints, “I should like balls infinitely better if they were carried on in a different manner; but there is something insufferably tedious in the usual process of such a meeting. It would surely be much more rational if conversation instead of dancing were made the order of the day.”

Her brother chuckled, “Much more rational, my dear Caroline, I dare say, but it would not be near so much like a ball.”

Draco continued to listen to the conversation as he pretended to read the book. He knew when the Weasley Woman had quieted that she was busy walking around the room. He continued to play his part when he heard the far too giddy voice of the read head request, “Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my example, and take a turn about the room. I assure you it is very refreshing after sitting so long in one attitude.”

He didn’t have to look up to notice the scent of Hermione, which somehow reminded him of a combination of cinnamon and ginger found in gingerbread.  Her spicy sent reminded him of the Christmas cakes he had at the Manor when he was younger, and of innocent times that he could never recapture. He was captivated by the scent and looked up as the two women walked around the room. The book was soon closed and set on the side table, as he watched Hermione glide across the room arm and arm with the ginger, who smiled at him when she noticed his attention, “Would you join us?”

He declined, “I can imagine but two motives for you choosing to walk up and down the room together, with either of which motives my joining you would interfere.”

“Do you understand at all of what he speaks?” she questioned Granger.

“Not at all,” Hermione smiled and a flicker of knowing lit her brown eyes; “but depend upon it, he means to be severe on us, and our surest way of disappointing him will be to ask nothing about it.”

However, the brown eyed ginger desired an explanation, “Would you grace us with an explanation of your previous statement?”

Draco looked up at the two of them and couldn’t keep his eyes from Hermione’s even though it was the youngest Weasley who inquired, “I have not the smallest objection to explaining them. You either choose this method of passing the evening because you are in each other’s confidence, and have secret affairs to discuss, or because you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in walking; if the first, I would be completely in your way, and if the second, I can admire you much better as I sit by the fire.”

Miss Bingley gasped, “Oh! Shocking! I never heard anything so abominable. How shall we punish him for such a speech?”

“Nothing so easy, if you have but the inclination,” Hermione smiled as Draco was entrapped in her chocolate and honey colored orbs.

The taller woman suggested, “We can all plague and punish one another. Tease him—laugh at him. Intimate as you are, you must know how it is to be done.”

Hermione’s eyes widened, “But upon my honour, I do _not_. I do assure you that my intimacy has not yet taught me _that_. Tease calmness of manner and presence of mind! No, no—feel he may defy us there. And as to laughter, we will not expose ourselves, if you please, by attempting to laugh without a subject. Mr. Darcy may hug himself.” She exclaimed, “Mr. Darcy is not to be laughed at! That is an uncommon advantage, and uncommon I hope it will continue, for it would be a great loss to me to have many such acquaintances. I dearly love to laugh.”

Draco smiled a genuine smile as he continued to stare at the beauty of Hermione, “Miss Bingley has given me more credit than can be. The wisest and the best of men—nay, the wisest and best of their actions—may be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first object in life is a joke.”

“Certainly,” her arms snaked to her hips and her brown ringlets began to frizz, “there are such people, but I hope I am not one of _them_. I hope I never ridicule what is wise and good. Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies, _do_ divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can. But these, I suppose, are precisely what you are without.”

Draco knew what he needed to speak to maintain his cover and not give away the fact that he wasn’t just the character Darcy who’d taken the appearance of Draco Malfoy. However, his mind flashed back to the many times he’d seen the Golden Trio laughing together and having a good time at the Gryffindor Table. He remembered sitting at the Slytherin table and only laughing at the jokes he made at their expense and the ridicule he constantly grasped at to make himself feel superior. His desire to feel worth something caused him to belittle the good people around him, and his jealousy of the easy praise Potter received or the top marks Granger received, caused him to become more horrible.  He quickly cleared his thoughts as he popped of the proper retort, “Perhaps that is not possible for anyone. But it has been the study of my life to avoid those weaknesses which often expose a strong understanding to ridicule.”

Her eyes narrowed at him and a sneer overcame her usually pouty lips, “Such as vanity and pride.”

Draco shook his head for a moment as more thoughts and memories clouded his mind. How much like Darcy was he? He was consumed with maintaining the exterior expected of the Malfoy Heir, power over others, and never showing weakness. The truth of the matter was that he never saw himself as anything more than inferior to Potter, inferior to Granger, and even inferior to the youngest Weasley boy because he was good enough to be the other two’s friend. He tried to knock them down by causing them pain with his words. He wanted them to hurt as much as he did every day. He once again wrangled his thoughts, which allowed him to respond, “Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride—where there is a real superiority of mind, pride will be always under good regulation.”

Hermione turned away from him, which according to the book was to hide a smile. However, the redhead requested her to speak more, “Your examination of Mr. Darcy is over, I presume and pray what is the result?”

Hermione’s eyes fixed with his as she spoke, “I am perfectly convinced by it that Mr. Darcy has no defect. He owns it himself without disguise.”

Draco knew that he was riddled with defects. He had the, now faded but always to be there, Dark Mark on his left forearm. He had the thin scars from the curse Potter hit him with their sixth year. His body was too weak to heal properly even with the essence of dittany that Snape suggested. He also had the thin white scars on his wrist where he tried to take his own life after he was forced to torture Rowle with the Cruciatus Curse. He couldn’t live with the amount of pain he caused the man and the amount of hatred he had to project to do it effectively. He felt himself slipping into the darkness and he swore to himself that he’d never go around a twist like Bellatrix. He’d much rather die before going completely nutters.

 He spoke low trying to keep the haunting memories at bay, “No, I have made no such pretention. I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for. It is, I believe, too little yielding—certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of other so soon as I ought, nor their offenses against myself. My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost, is lost forever.” He couldn’t help but think Darcy’s words fit him, as well. He rarely trusted people but when he let someone in, if they did something to show themselves to be untrustworthy, then he would never trust that person again. He found truth in the statement when it came to Pansy Parkinson.

“ _That_ is failing indeed!” Hermione’s eyes shone with fire as if she could see beyond his attempt to hide behind Darcy and directly into his dark soul, “Implacable resentment _is_ a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well. I really cannot _laugh_ at it. You are safe from me.”

He tried to hide the shiver he felt, “There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil—a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome.”

Her eyes narrowed as if she was accusing Draco himself, “And _your_ defect is to hate everyone.”

His stomach clenched as he wished he could explain to her that those feelings of hatred, based upon blood purity, disappeared the moment he saw her bloodshed before him as she wreathed in pain on his family’s parlor floor at the hand of his crazy aunt. Her golden curls spread around her heart shaped face like a glowing halo, as she refused to give into the torture. It was that day, he realized that he was truly on the wrong side of the war and everything he’d been taught since he was a young boy was completely wrong.  He did have to admit that he still lacked the capacity for love, as he never opened himself up for the prospect. He smiled, “And yours is willfully to misunderstand them.”

Once again the redhead interrupted their moment, “Do let us have a little music.” She turned toward Astoria, “Louisa, you will not mind me waking Mr. Hurst?”

* * *

Draco willed time to pass quicker as soon as Hermione and her sister fled from house. He was left with the less desired conversation with the other members of the home. If Theo’s look alike was anything like his friend, then perhaps he wouldn’t have been so board at the prospect. There was so much not spoken of in the book and the world around him seemed to stay stagnant. As the story continued for Hermione, he was left to wait for the next time their paths crossed. He knew from the book that she was currently at Longbourn probably being visited by Mr. Collins who was vying for her affections. What if he was Ron and she decided that she much rather marry him than spend any more time with him? What if she completely changed the story line by refusing to even consider him as a possible love interest? He had to shake his thoughts as he read another book from the limited collection at Netherfield.  He couldn’t fathom why he was so fixed on her; however in her absence, he realized just how much he missed her. Darcy may have enjoyed his time away from her because he was fighting the feelings he was developing for the second eldest Miss Bennet, but he was cut off from the only other person from his reality present. Sure, she didn’t know that he was the Draco from her reality, but something in her eyes told him she was alive and not two dimensional like the rest of the characters he was subject to when the plot moved away from him.

It was the following day that Bingley suggested that they visit Meryton, and the two of them chose to ride horseback. Draco had to admit that riding a horse was almost as freeing as riding a broom. When they noticed the five Bennet sisters accompanied by two officers and another gentleman, they decided to approach the party at Bingley’s bequest. Draco recognized one of the officers as Ronald Weasley and the other as Dean Thomas from his reality. The other gentleman was none other than his third year Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. He noticed that Ron’s features turned ghostly white under his glare, which led him to believe the new ginger was none other than Mr. Wickham. Dean had to be the other officer Denny, and Lupin had to have been Mr. Collins. When he thought about it, the facsimiles made sense, as the werewolf had married his disowned cousin who was playing the part of the future Mrs. Collins.

After a few moments, Ron tipped his hat. Draco refused to return the gesture and he and Bingley were soon leaving the group. He couldn’t help but feel defeated as he realized that Hermione would sure choose Ron over him, even if he were portraying the horrible character Wickham. His heart ached for some unknown reason, as his eyes pricked. What the hell was wrong with him? Why would he even entertain the idea of Hermione ever being attracted to him or even caring for him? Why would he even desire her to?


	7. New Arrivals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Series (1997-2007) and any characters and original locations within the books belong to JK Rowling. I own my original characters and my plot. I am not trying to pass any of these characters or copyrighted ideas off as my own and therefore it isn’t plagiarism or copyright infringement. Pride and Prejudice belongs to Jane Austen, I am only borrowing her world and some of her dialog.

Hermione was happy to escape from Draco Malfoy, as soon as she realized that he was the one from her reality. All of her hopes of getting through the book because of Darcy’s redeeming qualities faded. She wanted to avoid the Draco version of Mr. Darcy for as long as possible. Sure she knew that many people had changed during the war and she did see Malfoy crying with Goyle after Crabbe died, but he couldn’t have changed that much, right? He still saw her as a filthy person because of her birth status.  She sighed as she sat at the breakfast table with the rest of her Bennet family. She was zoning as Arthur advised them of a visitor and read the letter from the horrible Mr. Collins. Once she realized who was coming, her train of thought jumped tracks and ended up in a completely different direction. He mind went in overdrive. If Tonks was Charlotte and the one who was supposed to end up the wife of Mr. Collins and Tonks fell in love with and married Remus Lupin, then was Mr. Collins going to show up in the guise of Lupin? Was she going to see another dead friend? She took a breath and stopped his tears from forming. She needed to be strong. She didn’t have the opportunity to say goodbye to either one of her friends, perhaps the fantasy world she existed in would give her that missed opportunity.

She knew that Remus was nothing like Mr. Collins in character, as he was far more educated and agreeable. However, not all of the characters fit the person playing them perfectly. Ginny and Molly both supported that argument. However, Ginny fit the roll of Miss Bingley because she was the youngest sister to Bill. Molly fit in as the mothering figure because she was the wife to Arthur and she was Hermione’s segregate mother in the Wizarding world. She also didn’t have much to say about Draco’s fitting or not fitting Mr. Darcy, as she didn’t really know him that well. Could she be misunderstanding Draco as well as Eliza misunderstood Darcy?

* * *

With the arrival of their guest, Hermione’s assumption was confirmed. The salt and pepper haired former Defense against the Dark Arts teacher sat at the table with them over dinner. Her heart hurt seeing another dead friend alive before her. She couldn’t understand how seeing one’s dead loved ones helped with escaping from the reality of their deaths? They sat around the table and Arthur decided to address their guest, “Mr. Collins, in your letter you mentioned your patroness. What is she like?”

The werewolf’s kind brown eyes twinkled, “I have never in my life witnessed such behaviour in a person of rank—such affability and condescension, as he had himself experienced from Lady Catherine. She had been graciously pleased to approve of both of the discourses which he had already had the honour of preaching before her. She had asked me twice to dine at Rosings, and had sent for me only the Saturday before, to make up her pool of quadrille in the evening. Lady Catherine is reckoned proud by many people I know, but I have never seen anything but affability in her. She always speaks to me as she would any other gentleman; she made not the smallest objection to me joining in the society of the neighbourhood nor to me leaving the parish occasionally for a week or two, to visit my relations. She even condescended to advise me to marry as soon as I can, provided I chose with discretion; and she once paid me a visit in my humble parsonage, where she had perfectly approved all the alterations I was making, and had even vouchsafed to suggest some herself—some shelves in the closet upstairs.”

Molly smiled at him warmly, “That is all very proper and civil, I am sure and I dare say she is a very agreeable woman. It is a pity that great ladies in general are not more like her. Does she live near you, sir?”

Hermione wanted to roll her eyes as she knew Mr. Collins was going to continue with his boisterous praise of the awful woman. It was so out of charter for her dear friend Lupin that his face smiling behind the character Mr. Collins was detrimental to his memory. “The garden in which stands my humble abode is separated only by a lane from Rosings Park, her ladyship’s residence.”

Molly’s eyes twinkled, “I think you said she was a widow, sir? Has she any family?”

“She has only one daughter, the heiress of Rosings, and of very extensive property.”

“Ah!” Molly shook her head, “then she is better off than many girls. And what sort of young lady is she? Is she handsome?”

Lupin nodded his head with excitement, “She is a most charming young lady indeed. Lady Catherine herself says that, in point of true beauty, Miss de Bourgh is far superior to the handsomest of her sex, because there is that in her features which marks the young lady of distinguishing birth. She is unfortunately of a sickly constitution, which has prevented her from making that progress in many accomplishments which she could not have otherwise failed of, as I am informed by the lady who superintended her education, and who still resides with them. But she is perfectly amiable, and often condescends to drive by my humble abode in her little phaeton and ponies.”

Molly’s brow furrowed, “Has she been presented? I do not remember her name among the ladies at court.”

“Her indifferent state of health unhappily prevents her being in town; and by that means, as I told Lady Catherine one day, has deprived the British court of its brightest ornaments. Her ladyship seemed pleased with the idea; and you may imagine that I am happy on every occasion to offer those little delicate compliments which are always acceptable to ladies. I have more than once observed to Lady Catherine, that her charming daughter seemed born to be a duchess, and that the most elevated rank, instead of giving her consequence, which be adorned by her. These are the kind of little things which please her ladyship, and it is a sort of attention which I conceive myself peculiarly bound to pay.”

“You judge very properly, “Arthur politely bowed his head, “and it is happy for you that you possess the talent of flattering with delicacy. May I ask whether these pleasing attentions proceed from the impulse of the moment, or are the result of previous study?”

Hermione smiled at the veiled insult as it went over Mr. Collins’ head, “They arise chiefly from what is passing at the time, and though I sometimes amuse myself with suggesting and arranging such little elegant compliments as may be adapted to ordinary occasions, I always wish to give them as unstudied an air as possible.” Arthur made eye contact with Hermione, which seemed to betray his humor at his cousin’s absurdity. After tea time, Arthur requested that Mr. Collins read to the girls, in which, he replied that he never read novels. After a bit, he selected Fordyce’s Sermons. Lavender gapped as he began to read with a monotonous tone and a solemn face.

Hermione couldn’t help but think of Lupin’s funeral and tears prickled in her eyes, but her attention was diverted when Lavender interrupted the reading, “Do you know, Mamma, that my uncle Phillips talks of turning away Richard; and if he does, Colonel Forster will hire him. My aunt told me so herself on Saturday. I shall walk to Meryton tomorrow to hear more about it, and to ask when Mr. Denny comes back from town.”

“Really Lydia, that was quite impolite,” Fleur admonished.

Hermione shook her head, “One shouldn’t interrupt when another is reading.”

Lupin’s usually warm features shown with offense as he closed the book and set it aside, “I have often observed how little young ladies are interested by books of serious stamp, though written solely for their benefit. It amazes me, I confess; for, certainly, there can be nothing so advantageous to them as instruction. But I will no longer importune my young cousin.” He then turned to Arthur, “Would you care to join me in a game of backgammon?”

Arthur nodded his head, “You acted quite wisely in leaving the girls to their own trifling amusements.”

* * *

During the morning tea before breakfast Lupin made his desires known, “My future wife may be found here at Longbourn.”

Molly smiled but quickly dissuaded him from Jane, “As to my _younger_ daughters, I cannot take upon me to say—I cannot positively answer—but I do not know of any prepossessions; my _eldest_ daughter, I must mention—as I feel incumbent on her to hint, is likely to be very soon engaged.”

After breakfast, Lavender’s desire to walk to Meryton wasn’t forgotten, and since Arthur refused to be submitted to Lupin’s follies in his own library, he suggested the man accompany them. All except for Mary had wanted to go for the walk. Upon arriving in Meryton, the younger girls stopped paying attention to Lupin and began looking around for Officers.

Hermione knew she would soon lay eyes on her future Brother-in-Law through despicable means; however she had yet to even fathom who the man might be. She attempted to hide the gasp of surprise she let out when a ginger haired man approached the group with who must have been Officer Denny but resembled the Gryffindor Dean Thomas. The man walking next to him, was none other than the man she’d been confused about since they kissed during the Battle of Hogwarts. She couldn’t figure out why he would’ve been cast in such a horrible role when Malfoy would’ve been a better option. Sure Ron Weasley was thick, but he wasn’t nearly as greedy as Wickham.

The group was busy conversing when Bill and Malfoy arrived. Bill was busy fawning all over Fleur and surely was the reason for the two to approach the group. Hermione knew what was to happen upon Darcy seeing Wickham and she wasn’t surprised by Ron’s reaction in the form of all the color draining from his face in fear, which was odd for Ron unless Malfoy’s appearance reminded him of a giant spider. However, the maelstrom of emotions she found within Malfoy’s gray eyes were shocking. He almost looked dejected, as if he assumed she would choose Ron over him even in the guise of Wickham. She continued to stare at him until the two disappeared on horseback. She shook her head from the silly thoughts that Malfoy could even care about her. She’d known him for seven years and he never showed any redeeming qualities. He was a bully, Death Eater, and overly despicable person. Sure he was roped into becoming a Death Eater at the threat of his and his family’s life if he failed to kill Dumbledore. Sure he was forced to do things in the war and they’d saved his life twice during the battle of Hogwarts, but he never showed any feelings past his cowardice and desire for self preservation. Denny and Wickham walked them to Mrs. Phillips door and bowed before leaving.

* * *

The girls had returned to their aunt’s house and found that Wickham had been invited as well. Hermione tired not to roll her eyes as she had the expected conversation with him where he told his sob story with regards to Mr. Darcy. He went into how Darcy disgraced the memory of his father by refusing him the parish, as he was gifted the job since he was meant to be a church, however when he wanted the job Mr. Darcy had given it to someone else. Hermione had the whole book memorized so she knew the true manner of Wickham’s character and thus didn’t fall for the conversation like Elizabeth did in the book. She knew very well that it was Wickham who’d caused a grievance to Mr. Darcy, however Darcy being the man he was, didn’t find it advantageous to speak of such personal things with others. Especially when dealing with his sixteen year old sister Georgiana.   The party began to break up, however they culminated around a card game where Mrs. Phillips, who resembled Professor McGonagall,  stated she considered the money lost as a mere trifle.

Lupin couldn’t help but respond, “I know very well, madam that when persons sit down to a card-table, they must take their chances of these things, and happily I am not in such circumstances as to make five shillings any object. There are undoubtedly many who could not say the same, but thanks to Lady Catherine de Bourgh, I am removed far beyond the necessity of regarding little matters.”

Ron’s head shot up and his blue eyes focused on Lupin before he asked Hermione if her relation was intimately acquainted with the family of de Bourgh. Hermione smiled knowing what was coming next as she gave her proper response, “Lady Catherine de Bourgh has very lately given him a living. I hardly know how Mr. Collins was first introduced to her notice, but he certainly has not known her long.”

Ron raised an eyebrow, “You know of course that Lady Catherine de Bourgh and Lady Anne Darcy were sisters; consequently that she is aunt to the present Mr. Darcy.”

Hermione shook her head no though she knew everything regarding the situation, however her mind couldn’t help but wonder who her mind would’ve cast in place of Lady Catherine. “No, indeed, I did not. I knew nothing at all of Lady Catherine’s connections. I never heard of her existence till the day before yesterday.”

Ron smirked, “Her daughter, Miss de Bourgh, will have a very large fortune, and it is believed that she and her cousin will unite the two estates.”

“Mr. Collins speaks highly of Lady Catherine and her daughter; but from some particulars that he has related of her ladyship, I suspect his gratitude misleads him, and that in spite of her being his patroness, she is an arrogant, conceited woman.”

I believe her to be both in a great degree. I have not seen her for many years, but I very well remember that I never liked her, and that her manners were dictatorial and insolent. She has the reputation of being remarkably sensible and clever; but I rather believe she derives part of her abilities from her rank and fortune, part from her authoritative manner, and the rest from the pride of her nephew, who chooses that everyone connected with him would have an understanding of the first class.”

Hermione listened to his description of Lady Catherine and couldn’t help but draw some parallels and try to guess whose face she might have, however she stopped her train of thought as soon as it landed on a ghastly face from her past that she wished to never see again. Clever was generally associated with Slytherin and one could think that if Draco Malfoy was Mr. Darcy then perhaps Lucius was Old Mr. Darcy and Narcissa was Lady Anne Darcy. So, if Catherine was Lady Anne’s sister, and she was arrogant and conceited as well as having an authoritative manner, she shivered and hoped her guess was incorrect. Just that one time she wished that someone else would be in that role. However, the particular woman she thought of didn’t have a child, so if she was to play her then who would be Anne? She absentmindedly rubbed the scar on her left arm as she tried to concentrate on the scene before her instead of who she might be facing soon.

* * *

The day of the Netherfield ball had arrived and unfortunately Mr. Collins had decided to accept the invitation presented by Bill and Ginny. She was quite torn every time she looked at her dead friend. She saw so much of Lupin in his expressions but then he opened his mouth and spewed the nonsense associated with the Jane Austen character. He had no substance other than praise for his patroness and a desire to have an attractive woman for a wife. Yep, she didn’t look forward to the decline of his proposal she would have to make. Hermione dressed up more than she usually would, as she knew that Ron wouldn’t be present at the ball but she thought it best to judge Malfoy’s feelings. If the cold hearted snake had any that was. Perhaps she could capture his eye. She well knew that a dance would occur between the two of them, and she wholeheartedly planned on confronting him during the dance. However, instead of discussing his misdeeds toward Ron she will be discussing Malfoy’s misdeeds during the war. She would lay into him and see if she could obtain any reaction that gave away his intentions toward her. Could she just be imagining the way he looked at her fondly much like Mr. Darcy did when looking at Elizabeth? Then again there was always the possibility that he was just playing his part exceptionally well to try and throw her off, but why would he not want her to know that he was the real Malfoy? What would motivate him to desire something like that?

After her two embarrassing dances with the Lupin and one with an unnamed officer who resembled Neville Longbottom, they discussed the overall likability of Wickham before turning to Dora’s side.  She was busy conversing with her when Malfoy played his part by taking her by surprise, which she played quite well. She pretended to accept a dance with him before he left. She was busy fretting when Dora attempted to console her, “I dare say you will find him very agreeable.”

Hermione gasped, “Heaven forbid! _That_ would be the greatest misfortune of all! To find a man agreeable whom one is determined to hate! Do not wish me such an evil.” Something in those words seriously rung true, was she so determined to continue her hatred for Malfoy that she prevented herself from seeing if he changed? Was she so caught up on the foul git f a child that she never took into consideration the man he’s become? She shook her head as she was getting sick of second guessing herself when she was around him. She barely registered Dora’s whisper of warning though she knew exactly what she said from memory when Malfoy came to claim her hand once the dancing commenced.

Instead of holding her tongue during the first two dances with him like Elizabeth, Hermione started conversing with him right away and completely off scrip. “I dare say Malfoy; you’ve done a keen job in attempting to maintain a guise that would never be fitting of your character.”

As they circled around each other, his gray eyes narrowed, “I’m not sure of what you speak.”

“Oh come on, I know that you’ve read the book from cover to cover by now. You know exactly what the character of Darcy, and I fear that you lack his redeeming qualities. Sure you’re both wealthy and proud, but you don’t have a younger sister you’re willing to protect with your life. You’d rather tell the world what a horrible person Wickham because it’d make you out to be the victim rather than remain silent to protect the image of your sister. You proudly took the Dark Mark and was excited to be given a mission by the Dark Lord. You enjoyed torturing fellow students in school and I’m sure you enjoyed torturing fellow Death Eaters at Voldemort’s command.”

His face fell and he cleared his throat, “So, this is how you see me?”

Hermione’s eyes burned with fire as she glared at him, “There was nothing you’ve done to make me think otherwise. You stood there and watched as your aunt tortured me and gave me this scar. She wrote the word you delighted in calling me since second year. You’re filled with so much fear and unwilling to stand up for any injustice as long as it saves your skin. You will never fill the shoes of Mr. Darcy and you’ll always be the sniveling coward who tried to get an innocent hippogriff executed in third year. The boy who cringed as soon as I pointed my wand at him after taunting me with insults, however I guess I got the last laugh there with my right hook.” She couldn’t help but smirk at the memory of slugging Malfoy in their third year.

His eyes dropped to the floor, “I see that you misunderstand me just as much as Eliza misunderstands Darcy for the majority of the book. As I figured, you’ll be chasing after Ron because he’s everything you’ve ever wanted and no one else can compare to this thick but golden hearted Gryffindor.”

Her mouth dropped as they each stood across from one another again, “So, you think that you can somehow compare to the goodness, courage, and loyalty that exists within both of my best friends? What have you done to show your goodness? What choices have you ever made to show courage? Have you been loyal to anyone but your parents? Did you even grieve when Crabbe died or were the tears you shed because you lost one of your body guards?”

His voice was thick with emotion that she never thought he was capable, “Don’t you dare question my loss. I’ve lost people too Granger. Sure my parents and I managed to make it through, but Crabbe was my friend. I grew up with him and Goyle. Sure they weren’t that intelligent and I took advantage of them but I cared about them. I was upset when he died and my heart aches every time I see Forester walking around with his image. Don’t even try to assume that you know what the last two years have been like for me. The things I did were because I was afraid for me and my family. My parents were the only two people I’ve ever truly loved, and I don’t know what I would do if I lost them.”

She whispered, “Sorry,” which he didn’t acknowledge and he remained quiet for the remaining of the dance. She tried to catch his eyes to see what he was hiding, but he refused to make eye contact.  

However the dance soon ended and Sir William Lucas, Teddy Tonks, approached the two. He looked between them and smiled, “I have been most highly gratified indeed, my dear sir. Such very superior dancing is not often seen. It is evident that you belong to the first circles. Allow me to say, however, that your fair partner does not disgrace you, and that I must hope to have this pleasure often repeated, especially when a certain desirable event, my dear Eliza,” he glanced over at Fleur and Bill, “shall take place. What congratulations will then flow in! I appeal to Mr. Darcy:- but let me not interrupt you, sir. You will not thank me for detaining you from the bewitching converse of that young lady, whose bright eyes are also upbraiding me.”

Draco didn’t respond to Hermione or to William before he quickly left her side. She knew that he was breaking character once more and she couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with what she said to him. She shook her head knowing that there was no way that her words could’ve hurt him. He was far to reserved to allow his feelings to be hurt. He probably just went off somewhere to do something. Perhaps his dark mark started to burn and he needed to go grovel to his dead master. Yes she was grasping for straws but she couldn’t allow herself to believe that he ran off so she wouldn’t see him cry. She knew guilt would get the better of her if she even entertained that possibility.


	8. Quitting Netherfield

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Harry Potter Series (1997-2007) and any characters and original locations within the books belong to JK Rowling. I own my original characters and my plot. I am not trying to pass any of these characters or copyrighted ideas off as my own and therefore it isn’t plagiarism or copyright infringement. Pride and Prejudice belongs to Jane Austen, I am only borrowing her world and some of her dialog.

Theo let out a gasp of air as he read the accusations Hermione threw at Draco as the two of them danced beautifully together. He couldn’t believe that she attacked him so maliciously. She didn’t even give him the opportunity to explain himself. Theo really began to see the similarities between Elizabeth and Hermione, as well as between Draco and Darcy. The love hate relationship between the two of them was quite similar; however she had no right to pick at the scabs of his friend’s healing wounds.  He shook his head and set the book down after reading that Draco was pacing his room at Netherfield because he couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Theo grabbed his quill and parchment. He needed to write to George again because his invention was only torturing Draco. He was afraid his friend would soon buckle under the pressure. He admitted that Draco needed to face some of his inner demons, but he didn’t need Hermione pulling them out before everyone and making a public spectacle of his failures.

* * *

As soon as their dance was over, Draco walked back and forth in his living quarters in the home. He couldn’t believe that Hermione still saw him as the boy who called her _that_ word. He thought she knew about him being forced to torture others under Voldemort’s command but never killed anyone. He was under so much pressure when he was made a Death Eater. She was right about him being a coward and submitting to his fear. He was afraid for the only people he ever loved, his parents. He cared about his friends and he still was pretty broken up over the death of Crabbe. He couldn’t help but blame himself; if he hadn’t been so willing to attempt to please his father, then perhaps they wouldn’t have followed the Golden Trio into the Room of Hidden Things. His pride took a hit when Harry took off with his wand, and he only wanted to have that familiar piece of wood between his fingers. He felt tears slipping from his eyes, as he remembered Crabbe while he paced. He knew it was something he shouldn’t be doing. He needed to go back down there and continue to play Darcy. She was right in some aspects; however she still didn’t see the true person who he hid behind the cool Malfoy mask. That person was shy, vulnerable, and insecure. He swore he’d never let anyone see that side of him, but perhaps the only way she would forgive him for his past deeds was to let that guard down. He shook his head and quickly casted a charm that hid the fact that he’d been crying like a child in his bedroom. He checked his appearance and he looked as unaffected as possible.

A few minutes after returning to parlor, Draco felt accosted by his former Defense against the Dark Arts Professor and now deceased Cousin in Law. “I am sorry to interrupt you but I must introduce myself. I heard that you are the nephew of my Patroness Lady Catherine de Bourgh. When I heard that you were her nephew, I felt the need to introduce myself, I am Mr. Collins.”

“It’s a pleasure, I’m sure.” Draco coolly responded, however he tried to maintain an heir of civility.

After the man went into another speech with regards to the beauty of Rosings, the delightful character of his cousin, and the overall greatness of his aunt, Draco attempted to hide his discomfort. At the end of the speech, he bowed and walked away. He didn’t want to converse with such shallow people. He didn’t want to think about what Hermione thought of him. He just didn’t want to be in the room with anyone. He didn’t want his memories of the war to come back and hit him full force. He didn’t want a lot of things and hoped the ball would end soon, so that he and his party could make their retreat. Maybe if he had time to think away from Hermione, he could figure out the growing affections he was feeling for her. If he didn’t care for her in some way, her words wouldn’t have harmed him so greatly. If they were merely the words of an enemy, he wouldn’t care because he knew they didn’t know him. However, they were the words of the brightest student at Hogwarts. She was the one who valued logic over all else. She’d defended him to her friends in their sixth year because she wasn’t willing to jump to conclusions that he’d taken the mark. He couldn’t understand what happened to her that allowed her to only see his poor decisions, his Death Eater status that he hated more than the Dark Lord, and his indiscretions. She mustn’t have looked him in the eye when his aunt was torturing her on the floor of his family’s parlor. He retreated to the outside of the mingling guests and stood next to the dark wood paneled walls. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind.

His eyes quickly snapped open when his mind traveled to Hermione writhing on the expensive Persian Rug in their Parlor. She didn’t break, but continued to lie to Bellatrix’s face. Her courage was unbreakable and her loyalty true. She was willing to sacrifice herself if it would save her friends. Even with his eyes open, he still watched and heard her screams, as the vial woman he called an aunt carved the word _Mudblood_ into her left forearm. They both scars on the left forearm, sure the dark mark faded but a white outline remained. Draco wished he could do something to permanently remove the mark, but he understood it was a reminder of what led him down that dark path in the first place. It was the reminder to do something better with himself, and to forgo the ignorance and prejudice beliefs of his forefathers. He was a changed person, but all Hermione could see was his vial younger self.

* * *

Dinner had arrived and Draco was sat across from Hermione and Mrs. Weasley. The latter was busy discussing her delight of such a well matched couple Bingley and Jane were. She was busy mentioning his wealth and Draco couldn’t help but feel a little sick with the way the woman went on. It seemed as though she was more concerned that her daughter marry well than her daughter’s affection for the man she was courting. He had witnessed much like the character he was playing, that Jane didn’t show as many signs of affection toward his friend. If he hadn’t read the book and known the true extent of Jane’s feelings toward Bingley, he would assume that she was motivated by financial security, which reminded him too much of the woman chasing after him back at Hogwarts. None of them saw the real him, they only saw gold, and his previous standing with the Dark Lord. They thought he was likeminded in their feelings regarding blood status and all the other crap that ensnared the wealthy elite within pureblood society to follow an impoverished but charismatic half-blood. Did they not learn from their mistakes? Draco knew more than anyone that he never wished to travel down that path again; he never wanted to be trapped in his own home and motivated by such fear. He never wanted to hurt others, let alone do it because he was commanded to at the threat of his own harm. His attention arrived back to the dinner when he heard Hermione warn Mrs. Weasley of speaking so rudely before his presence.

Mrs. Weasley loudly scolded Hermione, “What is Mr. Darcy to me, pray, that I should be afraid of him? I am sure we owe him no such particular civility to be obliged to say nothing _he_ may not like to hear.”

“For heaven’s sake, madam, speak lower. What advantage can it be tor you to offend Mr. Darcy? You will never recommend yourself to his friend by doing so!” Hermione condemned in a lower tone, but Draco could still hear her.

Hearing the words that continued to spew from Mrs. Weasley’s mouth only made him feel more ill. He grew to quickly hate the woman before him. He was sure that his face was no longer composed and hidden behind his mask. He was appalled and some of the things she was saying struck too close to home. She spoke ill of him, she spoke of the great wealth and the easy life her daughter would have when she married Bingley. She had no sense of decorum, and he most definitely wouldn’t want to have such a woman as a Mother-in-Law. He could see quickly how Mr. Darcy drew the conclusions he did in the book, and why they’d be leaving shortly after the ball ended. He couldn’t help but feel his friend would be ill used under the present company and wasn’t sure if Jane truly cared for Bingley or was motivated by her mother.

After supper Looney Lovegood make her way to the pianoforte, and it was soon realized by everyone in attendance that she was not talented at all. Draco took his stance next to Bingley, the She-Weasel, Astoria, and Jane. Jane seemed to ignore the embarrassment that was her sister and continued to converse with Bingley. However, the other two women continued to shoot him knowing and judging looks. Right after the Ravenclaw finished her second song, Mr. Weasley loudly prevented her from starting another, “That will do extremely well, child. You have delighted us long enough. Let the other young ladies have time to exhibit.”

Next his cousin’s werewolf added to circling conversation of the room, “If I were so fortunate as to be able to sing, I should have great pleasure, I am sure, in obliging the company with an air; for I consider music as a very innocent diversion, and perfectly compatible with the profession of a clergyman. I do not mean, however to assert that we can be justified in devoting too much of our time to music, for there are certainly other things to be attended to. The rector of a parish has much to do. In the first place, he must make such an agreement for tithes as a may be beneficial to himself and not offensive to his patron…” Draco turned his attention away from the longwinded speech the air head of a clergyman was spouting behind him and tried to focus on anything not related to Hermione.

At the end of the party, the Bennets were the last to leave because the presumable Mrs. Weasley must have asked her carriage to arrive a half hour after all of the other guests had already left. Draco could tell that both of the sisters to his friends were willing them to leave as soon as possible, as they were feigning fatigue. Draco remained quiet during the whole exchange, and he refused to make eye contact with Hermione. He didn’t want her to see how hurt her words made him. He didn’t want to show weakness to the lioness for fear she would pounce on him and mangle him further or perhaps go in for the kill. He was by no means prepared to show her who he really was when she already had her mind made up with regards to his true character.

* * *

A couple of days passed before Draco escorted Bingley to London. Once there he was able to convince the man of Jane’s unaffected nature and the unacceptable behavior of her relatives. He knew well that Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley would be joining them shortly after sending a correspondence to Jane. Once in London he was soon met by the toad faced Umbridge and Darcy’s sister, who bared more resemblance to Jane then himself, other than her beauty, fair skin, and blond hair because her blue eyes were far different than his gray ones. He wished he remembered why Jane looked familiar, so that he could place who the girl was that was staring at him and hugging him with affection. He was shocked, as he knew the character was supposed to be about sixteen, but the girl before him looked about twelve or thirteen at the most.

His mind was occupied as he stepped into the role of gentleman businessman. He oversaw various aspects of his fortune and tried to keep his mind from the bright eyes of Hermione Granger. He tried to think of anything else and distract himself with the mundane and grayer aspects of day to day life. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t help but go back to Hermione and he found himself rereading his copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ just too familiar himself with what she was going through while he was away. He smiled as he reread over the proposal scene between Elizabeth and Mr. Collins. A smile played at the sides of his mouth as he pictured the older werewolf asking Hermione to marry him. He felt his stomach plummet as he read about her continued affection for Wickham.

However, a few days after arriving in London he was distracted by Miss Bingley and a visit from someone he wasn’t expecting to see again. It turned out Colonel Fitzwilliam, the one who was helping in the guardianship of Darcy’s younger sister Georgiana, was none other than Saint Potter. He quickly realized that if all of the characters were placed because of some scanning of Hermione’s mind upon entry to the book, then of course her two best friends would be present in possible romantic roles. As he knew that Elizabeth considered both officers as possible candidates for her affection at one point in the novel. However, Wickham showed his true colors and Fitzwilliam expressed his inability to find love because of his current financial situation.


	9. Arrival at Rosings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Series (1997-2007) and any characters and original locations within the books belong to JK Rowling. I own my original characters and my plot. I am not trying to pass any of these characters or copyrighted ideas off as my own and therefore it isn’t plagiarism or copyright infringement. Pride and Prejudice belongs to Jane Austen, I am only borrowing her world and some of her dialog.

Hermione watched as the events continued to unfold just as the book foretold. The morning after returning from the Netherfield ball, Lupin proposed to her. She followed the script and restrained her tongue from telling Mr. Collin’s what she really thought of him. Fleur was heartbroken from the letter sent to her from Ginny and Astoria. Including the part that basically states, Bill was fond of Miss Darcy, which Hermione couldn’t help but wonder who from her reality, was playing her. Draco was an only child and there is no one related to him who could fit the position. She didn’t have much time to think about it because she was busy consoling Fleur and hearing Molly complain that Mr. Collins had asked Charlotte Lucas to marry him when Elizabeth should’ve accepted. She was so upset that Longbourn would be Charlotte and Mr. Collins’ home once her husband died.

When Christmas arrived, Mr. and Mrs. Gardner came to Longbourn at Molly’s request. Hermione couldn’t stop the tears from welling up in her eyes upon the sight of her parents. Herman and Jean Granger were standing in the rolls of Mr. and Mrs. Gardner, Lizzy’s favorite aunt and uncle. Hermione was overwhelmed with how much she still missed her parents and hoped the Order found them soon. The sight of them in the unreality left her an emotional wreck, which Molly attributed to her regret in missing out on marrying Mr. Collins. Hermione went toe to toe with her mother Jean regarding the violent state that Bill was in love with Fleur before he was persuaded by his friends and family to leave. However, it ended the same as the book with Jean offering Fleur to stay with them in Cheapside.

After staying a week at Longbourn, Herman and Jean Granger left with Fleur, and Hermione saw life continuing on with the absence of Draco. However, she knew that it wouldn’t be long before she was to visit Dora and Remus. She would then have to stomach being in the presence of the bloody prat, Draco Malfoy. Upon leaving after her marriage, Dora requested that Hermione visit with her father and sister Maria in March. As Mach grew closer, Hermione accepted the invitation to visit with Marcia and Sir William Lucas. She sat in the chaise with the empty headed Ted Tonks and his second daughter Maria who resembled Padma Patil, which was odd since she was far brighter being a Ravenclaw than the character she was portraying. They stopped on Greenchurch Street to visit with Fleur and her mother before continuing on to Hertfordshire to visit Dora and Lupin.  While there her mother invited her to go visit the mountains with them that summer, which she of course accepted as she knew it would lead to her touring Pemberley and she couldn’t help but think that the house would say something about Draco Malfoy’s character.

* * *

Upon seeing the beauty that was Rosings Park next to the small parsonage home belonging to Mr. and Mrs. Collins, she gasped. It was as wondrous in its own right and her response was equivalent to her first view of Hogwarts in the boats her first year. There was a sloped hill upon the arrival and trees, manicured gardens, and green lawns as far as the eye could see. They went for their tour of the home. She had to listen to the veiled insinuations on the part of Mr. Collins trying to rub salt in the proverbial wound that she could’ve had everything if she had accepted his proposal. However, Hermione much like Elizabeth wasn’t interested in settling for someone she could never love or find agreeable. She believed in the power of love, and she knew that Tonks was meant to be with Lupin.

She listened to the words of Mr. Collins when he shared the knowledge that Lady Catherine was currently in the area. “Yes, Miss Elizabeth, you will have the honour of seeing Lady Catherine de Bourgh on the ensuing Sunday at church, and I need no say you will be delighted with her. She is all affability and condescension, and I doubt not but you will be honoured with some portion of her notice when service is over. I have scarcely any hesitation in saying she will include you and my sister Maria in every invitation with which she honours us during your stay here. Her behaviour to my dear Charlotte is charming. We dine at Rosings twice every week, and are never allowed to walk home. Her ladyship’s carriage is regularly ordered for us. I should say, one of her ladyship’s carriages, for she has several.”

Dora’s hair stayed the mousy brown it had been when she was morning Lupin’s denial of his feelings during Hermione and Harry’s sixth year. She smiled, “Lady Catherine is a very respectable, sensible woman indeed, and a most attentive neighbour.”

Lupin smiled and his brown eyes twinkled, “Very true, my dear, that is exactly what I say. She is the sort of woman whom one cannot regard with too much deference.”

The following day when the carriage appeared with Mrs. Jenkinson who resembled her grandmother Granger who was dead, and a sickly looking pug faced girl with dark hair. Hermione quickly recognized Miss Anne as none other than Draco’s old flame Pansy Parkinson. She couldn’t help but muse much like Lizzy had at how well the two would be well matched. She would be perfect as Draco’s wife, and she’d have to kindly point that out to him when they met face to face once again.

* * *

As they walked up the grand steps into the hall of Rosings, Hermione noticed the nervous fidgeting of both Padma and Ted; however her Gryffindor Courage remained in tack. She had an inkling of who she’d soon be face to face with, though she feared who was the formidable Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She listened to Lupin’s appraisal of the hall, as she tried to keep her courage intact. Ted seemed to be at a loss of words as he gave a low bow and took a seat without speaking. Padma sat on the edge of a chair and looked from left to right showing her fear. It was apparent that she was sorted into Ravenclaw because she lacked the courage of her twin. Hermione took her seat in an attempt to appraise the three ladies before her much like Elizabeth did in the book. Her eyes first rested on the daughter wanting to verify that she was a sickly Pansy Parkinson. She tried to keep the smile at bay when her first appearance had been correct. She then turned her vision to Mrs. Jenkinson, whose appearance was so close to her late grandmother that she had to stifle the tears that formed in her eyes. Last, and apprehensively her eyes landed on the Lady Catherine who was busy using her authoritative tone. Her eyes went wide as she saw none other than her former torturer Bellatrix Lestrange. When dinner arrived, Hermione robotically answered the questions asked of her regarding her sisters, what carriage her father kept, and what her mother’s maiden name had been. Hermione tried to keep her attention to the scene in the book so that her mind wouldn’t return to her reality and the type of woman Bellatrix really was.

Hermione refused to look at her as Bellatrix observed, “Your father’s estate is entailed on Mr. Collins, I think. For your sake,” Hermione didn’t have to look up to know that she was looking over at Dora, “I am glad of it; but otherwise I see no occasion for entailing estates from the female line. It was not thought necessary in Sir Lewis de Bourgh’s family. Do you play and sing, Miss Bennet?”

“A little.”

Hermione felt her heart quicken as the woman continued in that all too familiar voice of the woman that carved _Mudblood_ into her left forearm. “Oh! Then—some time or other we shall be happy to hear you. Our instrument is a capital one, probably superior to—You shall try it some day. Do your sisters play and sing?”

“One of them does.”

“Why did not you all learn? You ought all to have learned. The Miss Webbs all play, and their father has not so good an income as yours. Do you draw?”

“No, not at all.”

Hermione cringed as she realized she was being judged by the same woman as before, except this time it was regarding her lack of accomplishments rather than her blood status. However, it felt all too similar for her and shivers ran up her spine. “What, none of you?”

“Not one.”

The woman’s voice grated on Hermione because she knew the flashbacks were coming, and there was nothing she could do to stop them. Just being in the vial woman’s presence was enough to set her off. “That is very strange. But I suppose you had no opportunity. Your mother should have taken you to town every spring for the benefit of masters.”

Hermione decided to do what she did best as a Gryffindor. She made eye contact with the woman and allowed her courage to shine. “My mother would have had no objection, but my father hates London.”

“Has your governess left you?”

Hermione rolled her eyes defiantly, “We never had any governess.”

The woman’s heavy lidded brown eyes shone with something too similar to the woman’s likeness before her, “No governess! How was that possible? Five daughters brought up at home without a governess! I never heard of such a thing. Your mother must have been quite a slave to your education.”

Hermione assured the woman that wasn’t the case.

“Then, who taught you? Who attended to you? Without a governess, you must have been neglected.”

Hermione sighed, “Compared with some families, I believe we were; but such of us as wished to learn never wanted the means. We were always encouraged to read, and had all the masters that were necessary. Those who chose to be idle, certainly might.”

 Hermione’s grasp on the reality of _Pride and Prejudice_ slipped. As the woman went on about governess and the delightfulness of Mrs. Jenkinson, Hermione’s mind slipped back into another dark night where that woman belittled her in different ways. Hermione was in the middle of the parlor at Malfoy Manor. Bellatrix had just saw the sword of Gryffindor and was adamant that they had stole it from her vault. Hermione showed her true red and gold colors by not giving into the Cruciatus Curse. She continued to have nightmares from the pain she experienced that day, as the effects of the curse lingered. Hermione ran her fingers along the scar on her left forearm, as her mind replayed the pain of each stroke of the blade in the woman’s hands. Her breath quickened and soon she was unable to catch it. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as the woman’s words came back to her. “Are any of your younger sisters out, Miss Bennet?”

Hermione quickly berated herself for letting the past get the best of her. She managed to catch her breath and curtly responded, “Yes, ma’am, all.”

Hermione stared over at Dora’s familiar face as the woman continued on her verbal rampage, as she tried to keep her mind away from the vial woman who sat before her. “All! What, all five out at once? Very odd! And you only the second. The younger ones out before the elder ones are married! Your younger sisters must be very young?”

She felt her composure return and her courage was once again intact, “Yes, my youngest is not sixteen. Perhaps _she_ is full young to be much in company. But really, ma’am, I think it would be very hard upon younger sisters, that they should not have their share of society and amusement, because the elder may not have the means or inclination to marry early. The last-born has as good a right to the pleasures of youth at first. And to be kept back on _such_ a motive! I think it would not be very likely to promote sisterly affection or delicacy of mind.”

“Upon my word,” Bellatrix sounded astonished, “you give your opinion very decidedly for so young a person. Pray, what is your age?”

“With three younger sisters grown up,” Hermione smiled, “your ladyship can hardly expect me to own it.”

* * *

Ted Tonks only stayed a week before returning. Easter was approaching two weeks after Hermione came to stay with the Collinses. She soon heard that the party would increase for the holiday and she wasn’t surprised to hear that Mr. Darcy would be joining them. On the day the carriage made its ways up to Rosings, Mr. Collins was quick to arrive to pay his respects. Upon his return, Draco, and the other gentleman accompanied him back.

Dora rushed into the room where Hermione sat and announced, “I may thank you, Eliza, for this piece of civility. Mr. Darcy would never have come so soon to wait upon me.”

Hermione didn’t have time to respond before their arrival was announced by the doorbell. While Draco paid his complements, she only curtseyed to him without saying a word. Hermione was a bit shocked to see the familiar face of her best friend Harry Potter in Colonel Fitzwilliam’s place. He was quite gentlemanly, much like the character he portrayed. He soon asked about the health of her family, which Hermione happily gave the required response, “My eldest sister has been in town these three months. Have you never happened to see her there?” She knew just as well that he never would’ve meet Fleur; however she knew that he’d be later telling her about how Darcy saved his friend from making a grave mistake.

* * *

Easter arrived a week after the gentlemen’s arrival. Harry had called upon them several times; however they’d only seen Draco at church. On the day of Easter, they all joined the party in Lady Catherine’s drawing-room. Bellatrix only showed the civility required and was in deep conversation with Draco. Hermione could tell that he was just as uncomfortable in her presence as she was. She couldn’t help but wonder if her previous accusations at the Netherfield ball might have been a bit too harsh. Harry was his usual joyful self and was delighted to see them. However, as soon as Draco’s attention was drawn toward Hermione and Harry, Bellatrix demanded, “What is it that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What is it you are talking of? What are you telling Miss Bennet? Let me hear what it is.”

“We are speaking of music, madam.” He smiled and his green eyes twinkled as he wasn’t able to avoid responding.

Hermione rolled her eyes as the woman went off once more, “Of music! Then pray speak aloud. It is of all subjects my delight. I must have my share in the conversation if you are speaking of music. There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true enjoyment of music than myself, or a better natural taste. If I had ever learnt, I should have been a great proficient. And so would Anne, if her health had allowed her to apply. I am confident that she would have performed delightfully.” She turned her attention back to Draco, “How does Georgiana get on, Darcy?”

Draco smiled, “She is quite musically talented.”

“I am glad to hear such a good account of her and pray tell her from me, that she cannot expect to excel if she does not practice a good deal.” With the more frequent time she spent in Bellatrix’s company, Hermione had grown accepting of her presence as she was different as Lady Catherine than she was in her reality. The crazy look in her eye was missing, however she still filled a despicable role within the book and Hermione almost looked forward to her confrontation with the lady in the middle of the night. Perhaps by standing up to her in this reality, it would assist with her daemons from her own.

Draco quickly spoke his part, “I assure you, madam that she does not need such advice. She practices very constantly.”

“So much the better. It cannot be done too much; and when I next write to her. I shall charge her not to neglect on any account. I often tell young ladies that no excellence in music is to be acquired without constant practice. I have told Miss Bennet several times, that she will never play really well unless she practices more; and though Mrs. Collins has no instrument, she is very welcome, as I have often told her, to come to Rosings every day, and play on the pianoforte in Mrs. Jenkinson’s room. She would be in nobody’s way, you know, in that part of the house.”

Draco looked properly ashamed of his aunt’s ill-breeding and didn’t answer. Hermione simply raised an eyebrow to say that every family has a black sheep, and apparently his aunt was the one in his family. Sure she may have more in the presence of her gossiping mother and silly youngest sisters. As soon as tea was over, Harry reminded Hermione that she promised to play for him. She took her seat at the pianoforte and started to play a rather difficult piece that she still remembered by heart, even though it had been a year since she touched the piano in her parent’s home. Bellatrix listened to half of the song before continuing to converse with Draco until he walked away from her.

Hermione noticed him standing in an area where he had full view of her playing. At the first pause she decided to use her scripting, “You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me? I will not be alarmed though your sister _does_ play so well. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me.”

Draco didn’t seem to desire breaking script either, “I shall not say you are mistaken because you could not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming you; and I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long enough to know that you find great enjoyment in occasionally professing opinions which in fact are not your own.”

Hermione laughed and turned toward Harry, “Your cousin will give you a very pretty notion of me, and teach you not to believe a word I say. I am particularly unlucky in meeting with a person so able to expose my real character, in a part of the world where I had hoped to pass myself off with some degree of credit. Indeed, Mr. Darcy, it is very ungenerous in you to mention all that you knew to my disadvantage in Hertfordshire—and, give me leave to say, very impolitic too—for it is provoking me to retaliate, and such things may come out as will shock your relations to hear.”

Draco smiled, “I am not afraid of you.”

“Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of,” Harry requested, “I should like to know how he behaves among strangers.”

Hermione couldn’t help but find the humor in having Harry request dirt on Draco, even though the two were relations in good standing within that reality, there still seemed to be some competition between the two of them. She smiled, “You shall hear then—but prepare yourself for something very dreadful. The first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire, you must know, was at a ball—and at this ball, what do you think he did? He danced only four dances, though gentlemen were scarce; and, to my certain knowledge, more than one young lady was sitting down in want of a partner. Mr. Darcy you cannot deny the fact.”

“I had not at the time the honour of knowing any lady in the assembly beyond my own party.” Draco furrowed his brow as if something struck a chord with the statement.

Hermione took noted of his facial features as she continued with the banter, “True; and nobody can ever be introduced in a ball-room. Well, Colonel Fitzwilliam, what do I play next? My fighters wait your orders.”

Draco interrupted, “Perhaps I should have judged better, had I sought an introduction; but I am ill-qualified to recommend myself to strangers.”

Hermione kept her attention on Harry, “Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this? Shall we ask him why a man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, is ill qualified to recommend himself to strangers?”

Harry smiled, “I can answer your question without applying to him. It is because he will not give himself the trouble.”

Draco sighed and Hermione couldn’t help but see strong emotions in his gray eyes that resembled storm clouds, “I certainly have no the talent which some people possess of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often seen done.”

Hermione kept eye contact with him and smiled, “My fingers do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women’s do. They have not the same force or rapidity, and I do not produce the same expression. But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault—because I will not take the trouble of practicing. It is not that I do not believe my fingers as capable as any other woman’s of superior execution.”

Draco smiled an actual smile and not his trademark smirk, “You are perfectly right. You have employed your time better. No one admitted to the privilege of hearing you can think anything wanting. We neither of us perform to strangers.”

Upon that moment Bellatrix interrupted their conversation once more as she demanded to know what they were conversing about as she wished to participate. Hermione did the same as Elizabeth and started playing once more. She knew that Elizabeth was supposed to be average with her talent; however Hermione enjoyed piano lessons from the age of three years old, as her Dentist parents always found the arts important for the developing mind. She continued to practice regularly up until she received her letter for Hogwarts; however she’d play whenever she was home from school.

Bellatrix approached before sharing her opinion with Draco. Hermione noticed him cringe for a moment as she approached him and spoke, “Miss Bennet would not play at all amiss if she practiced more, and could have the advantage of a London master. She has a very good notion of fingering, though her taste is not equal to Anne’s. Anne would have been a delightful performer, had her health allowed her to learn.”

* * *

The following morning Hermione was busy writing a letter to Fleur when the door bell sounded. She answered the door to find only Draco standing there. He smiled at her and remarked, “We know very well from this book that you and I would be alone to converse. Perhaps we could take this time alone from the other characters to converse outside of this reality.”

Hermione took a seat in a chair and Draco sat on the sofa across from her. She smiled, “I think there are a few things we need to speak of outside of the scripting about you quitting Netherfield so soon. Perhaps we could discuss your reaction to your dear Aunt Bellatrix or you agreeing with Darcy’s statements of his shyness. Which topic would you prefer to tackle first?”

His eyes widened and he let out a mock sigh, “Here I thought you wished to speak about my horrible acts as a Death Eater and continue with your accusations.”

Hermione’s eyes moved to the floor as she wasn’t prepared to see what emotions were alive within his gray orbs, “I must admit that I was a bit unfair to you. I know that you were forced to do what you did during our sixth year and that I mustn’t judge you based upon what you did under duress. Also, I mustn’t hold you to the courageous standards of a Gryffindor as you were sorted into Slytherin for a reason. I guess you just did what you had to do to make sure you and your parents survived, but still it’s hard to believe that you’re shy, and I know why I’m uncomfortable with Bellatrix, but I thought you’d be fine with her.”

Draco shook his head, “You assume once again. I never knew Bellatrix until after she escaped from Azkaban our fifth year. The more I got to know her, the more I was afraid of her. Also, you may not have realized it, but being in the same room watching her torture someone you’ve gone to school with for six years does tend to cause an impression.” He looked away from her and she could swear she saw tears forming in his eyes, “I was powerless. There was nothing I could do to stop it because I was afraid of what she and the Dark Lord would do to me. At the same time it was like watching a broom accident, I couldn’t take my eyes off of your face. You were so brave and you never broke down. It was as if you were willing to sacrifice yourself for the survival of your friends.”

“Draco, I can understand your terror and your inability to stop her from torturing me, but at least you were strong enough to deny knowing for sure if we were who they suspected us of being. You still lied though you knew that who we were and that they had succeeded in capturing Harry.”

He looked away from her running his hand through his hair in what appeared to be frustration, “I was terrified that you were caught. I knew that Harry was our only hope. He was the only one that could rid the world of the monster that was Voldemort. I was sick of being frightened in my ancestral home, the home I’d known since birth. I was tired of being forced to punish other Death Eaters at the threat of my life, but in the end they’d get me when he wasn’t present. I don’t know how many times I’d experienced the Cruciatus. I was broken by the time you were in front of us, I was terrified, and I’d been tortured at school. The Carrows never liked me and saw me as a threat, so they found reasons to punish me. Crabbe, bloody Crabbe, died because he lost respect for me and refused to listen. It was his fault he died and if it weren’t for you and Harry, Goyle and I would’ve burned in there as well. All because the oaf cast a dark curse he had no skill to control. He should’ve never been taught that curse but apparently they didn’t see the need to keep them out of the Dark Arts class when he and Goyle both failed their O.W.L.s twice in Defense. What about when one discovers that the people one’s grown up with are so quick to turn on you.”

“I admit that I was wrong to say those things to you. I guess I was just trying to provoke you. I wanted to see if there was more to you than what I saw in school. I baited you with hopes that I’d see more to you much like Eliza finally sees in Darcy, but I instantly regretted it when I saw the tears in your eyes. I knew I’d gone too far in my judgment of your character. However, you still haven’t answered my question about your shyness.”

Draco simply nodded, “I’ve never been that talented with conversing with strangers. I tend to stick around with those I know. I guess it stems from my fear that strangers are only interested in me because of my family name, blood status, or our wealth. I just don’t trust people, and I really don’t trust women because they’re all after me. They all hope that I’ll make them my wife. I’d rather not meet anymore women motivated by shallow prospects like wealth and appearance.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the appearance of Dora and Padma. Draco explained his mistake and stayed for a bit without conversing with the others before leaving. Upon him leaving, Hermione couldn’t help but wonder if Draco had changed since the war. Was he really no longer the vial, loathsome cockroach he once was?


	10. Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Series (1997-2007) and any characters and original locations within the books belong to JK Rowling. I own my original characters and my plot. I am not trying to pass any of these characters or copyrighted ideas off as my own and therefore it isn’t plagiarism or copyright infringement. Pride and Prejudice belongs to Jane Austen, I am only borrowing her world and some of her dialog.

George stared at the letter he received from Nott. He looked at the writing with little concern. He smiled; perhaps the ferret deserved the pain she was giving him. He always was such an arrogant prat. The idea caused a smile to flit across his face and a mischievous glint appeared in his brown eyes, which was almost nonexistent since his twin’s death. He opened the master copy of the book and decided to read about the torture she was putting the incredible bouncing ferret through. He really hoped reading the story would cause more entertainment than reading about Harry running around with his dead father, dead godfather, and dead DA professor friend. Also, his heart ached when he realized that he and Fred were Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee in Ginny’s adventure. He didn’t even read about Ron’s adventure because he always thought going through a wardrobe into a mystical world was quite boring. There were so many better ways to travel than through a vanishing cabinet. He smiled and started reading the muggle book he’d never read before, but Fred had as soon as Hermione told him it was her favorite. Sadly, his dead twin had a crush on the Muggleborn bookworm for some time. George couldn’t help but wonder how things might’ve been different if his brother hadn’t died during the final battle.

* * *

Draco left his visit with Hermione wondering if she was beginning to see past his walls. Was she actually opening up to the idea or the possibility that he changed. He admitted to changing but he was still not as courageous as a Gryffindor. He knew what scene was coming up and he knew how poorly Mr. Darcy shared his feelings with Elizabeth. He couldn’t help but wonder if he should follow the scripting of the marriage proposal or if he should express his own growing feelings toward her. He was afraid of rejection, but how could he ever find out how she felt about him if he let his fear control him. He was tired of being ruled by fear and ready to embrace his hidden Gryffindor. So, perhaps the best way to tell her the way he felt was to wing it. He couldn’t think of one thing he wanted to say every time he put his quill to parchment. There was no point in rehearsing a speech he was incapable of writing.

The days passed with him visiting the Collins’ regularly with Harry, but much like Mr. Darcy, he couldn’t find the words he wanted to say. He felt too awkward to speak to her, but he enjoyed hearing her voice and being around her. Whenever he saw her go for a walk through the park, he couldn’t help but follow. However, whenever she happened upon him he quickly retreated. The warmth he felt in his chest whenever he saw her was not like anything he ever felt before. She wasn’t anything like the traditional woman who’d chase after him.  He couldn’t place what was going on, but a little voice in the back of his head, which sounded too much like Nott, exclaimed that he was falling in love. Draco was trapped in one of the Greatest Muggle Romance Novel’s ever, and he was starting to fit the part he was playing a little too closely. There was too much tragedy in his life for him to deserve a happy ending, but he wanted one whenever he looked into those warm mahogany eyes. He loved how they’d sparkle whenever she smiled. He was falling hard for a woman of whom his parents would never approve.

His heart filled with dread when the day arrived. He saw Hermione engaging in discourse with Harry as they walked through the park. When the Collins’ arrived to tea at Rosings without her stating that she stayed home because she didn’t feel well, he knew. She had the conversation with Harry regarding Mr. Darcy’s involvement in her dear sister’s heartbreak. He knew that the character was in an emotional mess; however he couldn’t believe that Hermione would be in one. He however, was concerned for her and rushed down to the parsonage. He rushed into the room inquiring in regards to her health much like the character. Only because he wasn’t prepared for what he was about to do.

Hermione was just as cold to him as Elizabeth was to Darcy. He sat down for a few moments before pacing the room. He managed to remain in the silent room before walking toward her not able to shake the fear that influenced his movement, “In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.” Hermione remained silent, her face colored, even though he was sure she expected the remainder of Darcy’s proposal to fall from his lips. He continued, but this time spoke the words belonging to him, “I understand that your blood is seen as inferior to many in my social circles. It’s likely that my parents will not approve of my feelings for you. Also there’s the Gryffindor and Slytherin rivalry that is against us. The fact that I was on the opposing side of a war where many on of your friends and your kind were murdered at my acquaintances’ hands exists and forces a wedge between us.

“However, much like Mr. Darcy’s feelings grew out of undesirable circumstances, sometimes one cannot see the value of someone until those prejudices given to him by his father is no longer limiting his view. In the time of this book, I’d be asking for your hand, but alas in the time we’re from, I’d have to start by asking you to consider and allow me to court you. I’ve grown to know you better in the weeks and months within this book than I have in the seven years we’ve been enemies. I could follow the arrogance and conceit placed upon me at birth, which makes me similar to the role I’m portraying. However, I’d much prefer to admit that you are my superior in many scholarly aspects and that I am no where deserving of your acceptance. You are an angel of light and I’ve spent far too much of my life in darkness. Perhaps it’s your light that draws me like a moth to the flame. I cannot help but inquire if you’d do me the honor of accepting my request. I want to get you know you better Hermione.”

Hermione crossed her arms and scowled, “What are you playing at Malfoy? Were you hoping that I’d develop feeling for you while we’re trapped in this novel? Did you expect me to swoon at such an eloquent turn phrase? Even Voldemort could have a way with words, how else would he have gathered so many of _superior blood_ to bow down to a half-blood like him? You’re a Slytherin Malfoy, and your father was silver tongued, I cannot help but feel you got your gift from him. I may be a Gryffindor, and I may wear my emotions on my sleeve, however I will not freely hand you my heart only to watch you crush it. You do not understand the meaning of the word love. Sure you understand hatred, jealousy, fear, power, and even lust, but a Death Eater like you could never love. You heart is as black as the lord you bowed down to and served. You tortured people, you attempted to murder, and only Dumbledore’s words saved him from your wand, his promises to protect your family, which only shows your selfishness. You’re right when you said that you’re not deserving of me. You will never have the qualities I seek in partner. You will never be anything more than a vile, loathsome, cockroach like you showed yourself to be in third year.”

Draco could feel his cheeks color and a stabbing pain in his heart but he quickly hid his vulnerability. He had reason to fear that day. He had reason to want to avoid it and not share his true feelings for her. How could he let himself hope that she could possibly return his growing affection? He knew that Elizabeth hadn’t grown feelings or even look past Mr. Darcy’s exterior until he proved himself a better man.

She continued to speak, “I could accuse you of everything Elizabeth accused Darcy of; however, my observations of you are quite different. You only went along with separating Jane and Bingley because you went along with the book, but you also showed your cowardice by running away from me. You could not fathom the possibility that someone could escape your allure. Just because every shallow woman at Hogwarts chase after you because of your good looks and wealth, doesn’t mean the same is true for me. I am not a starry eyed school girl. When I look at you, I see the person you are. I see the bigot who looked down upon me because of my blood status. I see the boy who was jealous of me because of my scores and Harry because of his unwanted attention. You focused on us because of it, and when your father was rightfully imprisoned for his acts at the Department of Mysteries, you decided to stomp on Harry’s nose.

“I’m shocked that my mind has casted him as Darcy’s jovial cousin. There is no way in our reality; Harry would ever spend time with the likes of you. I understand his hero complex required him to testify for you and your family. You did do us a favor of not giving us away, however you chased after us in the Room of Requirement. You threatened Harry and demanded your wand back, when you knew he needed it to survive an altercation with Voldemort. I think you wanted that snake to win or perhaps it was your desire of survival that motivated you. You never truly took a side, which just proves you are not a man of your own convictions. You are easily persuaded by your friends and family. I fear you do not possess an opinion that is truly your own, as you’ve spent years spitting out your father’s rhetoric. Are you not even capable of thought?”

He felt enraged at her accusations and began pacing, “That is your opinion of me then? This is the estimation you hold me to? I thank you for explaining your beliefs so fully to me. My faults, of which you have so articulately stripped from me, do seem to paint me in the darkest light. But perhaps,” he stopped walking and turned to look upon Hermione’s face, “these offenses would’ve been overlooked had we not had the history we have. If I had not wounded your pride by continually berating you for your blood inferiority then maybe, just maybe, you would’ve been less ruthless with your response. Perhaps you could’ve seen the authentic feelings behind my words. Do you really think I didn’t consider my own faults before I expressed them to you? Do you believe that I would rejoice that I’ve fallen for someone my parents wouldn’t approve? Do you think I’d be willing to risk disinheritance and being as poor as a Weasley, if I didn’t have genuine feelings for you? Of course not, you’re so used to being right that you cannot even fathom the possibility that your perception of me is wrong.”

The fire in her eyes faded and she spoke with the upmost composure. Her voice was similar as to when she was explaining the twelve uses of dragon’s blood in potions class. She was detached, “You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way, that it spared the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.” Draco went ridged at her scripting, as he knew he’d never know her true feelings because she was hiding behind Elizabeth Bennet. He remained silent and she continued to speak, “You could not have made the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it.”

His mouth popped open and quickly shut as he understood the undercurrent of her words. She was speaking them because she agreed with what was said in the book. She continued and with each word another sharp pain attacked his heart, “From the very beginning—from the first moment, I may almost say—of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form the groundwork of disapprobation on which succeeding events have built so immovable a dislike, and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry.”

Draco felt his mask completely snap into place as he responded as expected, “You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.” Draco quickly left the room with those words and almost ran from the house. His heart was poundings and her words were circling his mind, tears threatened to spill from his eyes, as his composed face began to crack. He knew in that moment, he would never be seen as anything more than a childhood bully turned Death Eater. He would never be accepted by the light because of the dark path he was forced to walk.

* * *

Draco pulled out his copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ to review the wonderfully worded letter from Mr. Darcy to Elizabeth Bennet is cherished by every girl who reads it. He knew that he had to take a chance and write his own story down upon the parchment instead of Darcy’s. He had to explain to her about things that no one, not even his parents knew. Things he’d even kept from spilling to his closest friend, Theo. He knew he was taking a huge risk by explaining why he singled her out in second year and spat the obscenity Mudblood at her. He would have to explain the pressure placed upon him to make friends with Harry Potter by his father. The disappointment he felt when he failed at the first task his father ever gave him. He would have to explain that he’d made the Slytherin Quidditch Team on his own merit and that his father bought the team brooms to give them all a better chance of winning since he was on the team. It hurt him so badly when one of them accused him of buying his way on, and it weakened his former feeling of accomplishment. With one sentence, he felt as inferior as the day before he’d tried out for the team.

He knew he’d have to explain the reasons behind taking the dark mark and relive the horror that was his sixth year. He wiped the tears from his eyes knowing he would even have to explain what he felt as he watched his aunt, who scared him greatly, torture her in the parlor of his childhood home. It was polluted and he could never walk into that room again without seeing her pain filled eyes. The blood still remained on their carpet where Mudblood was carved into her left arm. He wanted to run from his past and lock it all away. Of course, it never stopped the nightmares. He would have to explain how his family was under even tighter house arrest after they escaped and how he wasn’t allowed to return to Hogwarts until the final battle. He would have to explain all of the horrors he saw during his absence from the school. The feeling he felt without his wand. His mother’s had felt so wrong and his desire have that familiar Hawthorne and unicorn haired one back in his hands. Harry had made sure that Draco had to forcefully disarm his old wand from him to make sure it’s alliance would change back.

He would have to explain too many things he wished to never remember. He’d have to revisit the nearly destroyed castle that was his only other home. Everything was polluted with darkness and nothing could be done. Everywhere he went, he remembered the wizard who made his family’s lives miserable for two years. He never thought he’d ever consider telling her any of it. He never thought he’d share his thoughts, concerns, fears, and nightmares with another human being, let alone the Gryffindor princess. He picked up his quill and sighed as the first mark was made on the parchment. He knew that he’d even have to express his regrets. He would have to bare his soul to a woman who was so superior to him, she would never return the feelings he’d developed for her. Sure, she’d have to pretend for the end of the book and he might get one free kiss. He shook the thought from his mind, as he knew it would be worse to taste her lips and know that he’d never do so again.

* * *

He bypassed walking the park knowing she’d be waiting for him in the lane. She would play her part by the book to make sure they were able to exit it upon the story’s end. He found her walking back and forth to the lane and called out the character’s name, so she’d expect the letter he’d give her would be none other than the piece of transcript found in the pages of her beloved book. However, she’d soon be surprised at his boldness. He sighed as he continued walking toward her. To be trusted by a Gryffindor, one must possess the bravery to bear one’s soul knowing the feelings were unrequited.

The both of them reached the gate of the park around the same time. He held out the letter, which she took. He kept his face schooled behind the Malfoy mask of arrogance and haughty composure. He kept his mind protected with his knowledge of Occlumency and he only spoke what was expected of him, “I have been walking in the grove some time in the hope of meeting you. Will you do me the honour of reading that letter?” He quickly bowed and walked back to the building where the likeness of his crazy, sadistic aunt awaited with the pug faced Pansy, a stranger, and an overly lighthearted Harry Potter. He shook his head as he realized the only one he looked forward to seeing was Harry. He couldn’t help but wonder how much the boy who saved everyone’s arse was alike to the character of his likeness. Would he really get along with the bespectacled man? Was there a possibility that they could one day be friends or would his hand of friendship be refused a second time?


	11. Pemberley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Series (1997-2007) and any characters and original locations within the books belong to JK Rowling. I own my original characters and my plot. I am not trying to pass any of these characters or copyrighted ideas off as my own and therefore it isn’t plagiarism or copyright infringement. Pride and Prejudice belongs to Jane Austen, I am only borrowing her world and some of her dialog.

Hermione walked up and down the lane as she thought about the hurt she saw in those storm clouds for eyes. When she said those things she had meant to hurt him, but she didn’t think anything she said would. She honestly believed the worst of him. She believed that he pretended to profess his love for her to try and hurt her again. With everyone she lost, how broody Ron was being after the death of Fred, and everything going on she couldn’t let her hope grow to only have him crush it later. She still didn’t know why she was finding the slimy git attractive, or why her heart ached at the idea that she may have actually hurt him. She noticed him walking toward her and she felt similar to Elizabeth wanting to avoid him if possible. She couldn’t look into those eyes knowing how sharp her words were and how deeply they cut him. However, the calling of her character’s name required her to walk toward the gate and him. He handed her a letter, which she quickly took.

Draco hid behind the familiar haughty composed mask perfected by the Malfoy Patriarchs, “I have been walking in the grove some time in the hope of meeting you. Will you do me the honour of reading that letter?” She searched his eyes and managed to look past the mask. She could tell he was hurt but before she could say anything, he bowed and quickly retreated back into the park.

Hermione was sure with the way he was acting that he just copied Darcy’s letter from the book. However, her hands shook as she opened the letter wondering if he had the courage, after the berating he received from her the night before, to write a letter to her as Draco and not Darcy. She wasn’t sure why, but a part of her desperately hoped that the latter was true. She opened the envelope to find two sheets of paper, with his perfect penmanship written closely together. It was dated from Rosings at 9 o’clock in the evening from the night before.

_Hermione,_

_Don’t be alarmed at receiving this letter, as I will not be repeating the same sentiments I shared previously. It is not my intention to pain you or humble myself, but from our conversation it is quite apparent that some misconceptions exist between the both of us. I wish to take the time to clear those up within the pages of this letter. I may not have written this letter, had my character not been under attack. I apologize for demanding your attention, but I hope to express myself in a way that you can better understand the motivations behind the decisions for which you have chastised me._

_You accused me of several offenses last night, and though you were justified in some of your accusations, I fear you were not aware of the details before forming your opinions. I understand that I was a contemptuous prat in school; however I was indoctrinated into my superiority beliefs at a young age.  My Pre-Hogwarts education was done at home with tutors; however it was also quite lonely. I would see my mother only during meal times and my father during dinner. I wanted to get his attention and discovered the only way to do so was to make him proud._

_However, the summer after our first year of Hogwarts my father was upset with me that my test scores were lower than someone with inferior blood. I tried to use the excuse that you were a favorite with the professors but he didn’t buy it. He was very proud when he discovered that I’d made Seeker on the Slytherin House team. He was so proud that he bought the whole team new Nimbus 2001 brooms. I was elated that I had made him proud for the first time that I couldn’t wait to practice. However, we ended up on the pitch at the same time as the Gryffindor team. My pride was demolished as soon as someone suggested that I had bought my way onto the team. So, I struck back by calling you the unsavory name I’d heard my father use several times when describing muggleborns._

_Year after year, I watched as you, Ron, and Harry got all of the attention. In third year, Harry was being protected because of Sirius Black’s escape. In forth year, Harry ended up a Triwizard Champion. I admit that I reacted the way I did because I was jealous. I was jealous of you for being better than me in every subject except maybe potions. Divination was just rubbish, so I’m sure we faired the same in that class. Potter did better than me at Defense Against the Dark Arts and as a seeker. No matter where I looked, I felt that everyone was better than me. I know I projected an air of arrogance and conceit, but really I was hiding all of my insecurities behind it. I didn’t have any true friends, as they were either my friends because of my money or because of the power my father had. I always wished for true friendship like you three had. For once, I wanted to feel the true happiness I saw on your faces time and time again._

_I lost my opportunity to make my father proud when he lost to a bunch of fourth and fifth years at the Department of Mysteries. I was angry that more pressure was placed upon me and I took it out on the person I truly blamed for his incarceration. I mean, I couldn’t blame my father because I idealized the man. So, yes it wasn’t right to break Harry’s nose, but I was already feeling the pressure of Voldemort’s mission. How could a sixteen year old boy actually kill the wizard that defeated Grindelwald? I didn’t have much time to pick on you guys that year because I was trying to survive. I sent the necklace out of desperation as Voldemort continued to threaten my mother’s life. He even sent me a lock of her hair in a letter, as a warning that she wasn’t safe. I felt horrible when Katie Bell ended up at St. Mungo’s because of my actions. At the same time, I was too afraid of getting caught and joining my father in Azkaban. I went home for Christmas that year after planting the bottle of mead, which later landed your dear friend Weasley in the Hospital Wing the following spring._

_I don’t want you to pity me for what I’m about to tell you. Voldemort was present at my home during the holiday break. I became closely aquatinted with the Cruciatus Curse, however the worst part was watching my mother’s rape at the hands of Crabbe and Goyle Sr. Seeing her so broken on the Ball Room floor, made it impossible for me to ever set foot in that room again. I used to practice the piano in there since I was a small child, but I haven’t played since that night. Just thinking about the piano brings the image of my mother at the hands of those two monsters, while Greyback held me back forcing me to watch. Bellatrix just stood there cackling as she watched her own sister so brutally violated.  Upon returning to the school, the only thing I could do was concentrate on fixing that damn vanishing cabinet._

_When I finally let those Death Eaters into Hogwarts, which I wasn’t aware of Greyback coming, I stood atop the Astronomy Tower with my wand raised at a sickly looking Dumbledore. He was offering protection for me and my family, but I lost my opportunity when the other Death Eaters arrived on the tower taunting me to “just do it.” I was already lowering my wand when Snape came in and cast the killing curse. I was in shock as I watched the life leave the usually sparkling blue eyes of Dumbledore. He was the first person I ever saw die. I couldn’t even register what I saw because I was being rushed through the halls of Hogwarts by the nape of my neck by Snape. I was soon before Voldemort and being punished for my failure._

_The summer before my seventh year was horrible. I was forced to do many things that I never wanted to do, however if I didn’t I knew Voldemort’s wand would be turned on me, and I’d be the one writhing in pain on the floor. Throughout everything I’ve grown to hate that curse with a passion. That fall I returned to Hogwarts to find the place cold and dark. I hated the Carrow brother and sister. Since I was labeled a failed Death Eater, I was usually chosen as a practice dummy for the curses in Dark Arts. So, the boy filled with insecurities became everything he ever feared. I became the lowest thing possible. I had no power, no choices, and I feared for mine and my parents’ lives on a daily basis._

_My biggest regret occurred last April. Three people were presented to my family in our manor. My father was whispering in my ear that if I’d identify the individuals then we could win back our favor with the Dark Lord. I stood there looking into the warm doe eyes of the only female present that mattered to me. I don’t know what prevented me from speaking out or utterly denying their identities. I knew it was Potter before the stinging hex wore off, but I was petrified. If Voldemort killed Harry before you all were done doing whatever you were doing, then all hope was lost. The light would surly extinguish and I would be left in the darkness I so desperately wished to escape. Then Bellatrix saw that sword and went crazy. I just stood there as she casted the torture curse on you. I watched as your eyes pleaded for my help, but I just stood there frozen in shock like the true coward you have painted me as. I wish I had enough courage to stop her from carving that word into your arm, but I just stood there with a blank face. I checked out and shut down watching your torture. The nightmares came later, but in that moment I could barely think or look away from the tears forming in your eyes. The blood that fell down your arm and stained our worn rug was just as red as my own._

_I was so excited when you all escaped, even though Harry took off with my wand. After Voldemort showed up and discovered we’d let you escape, we were all kept under house arrest. I wasn’t even allowed to return to Hogwarts. I was forced to watch one horror after another, but I was just as unresponsive as before. My father’s wand was taken that summer, my wand was gone, and my mother gave me hers to use. She became defenseless by letting me borrow her wand. However, it felt so wrong and didn’t work properly for me. It was tiring trying to use it and my father’s desperate words repeated in my mind. The three of you broke into Gringotts and Voldemort knew what was taken and he wasn’t happy.  The remaining guards and Goblins were murdered on our Drawing room floor. He strode through the dead bodies as if he didn’t even see them there. My mother hugged me tightly, as I saw the horror through the same blank eyes._

_Then the day of the battle came because Potter was spotted in Hogsmeade. I used my mother’s wand to apparate into Hogwarts and waited outside of the Room of Requirement with Crabbe and Goyle. I don’t know why I chose them, maybe it was because they were the closest things to friends I had since first year. We followed you into the Room of Hidden things and Crabbe stopped listening to me because he perceived I no longer had any power. It hurt knowing that he was only a friend because of my family’s standing with the Dark Lord. You know what happened in that room after he released the Fiendfyre. You and Harry could’ve left us to die, but instead you save Goyle and me from the flames. However, my mother’s wand was lost. I was left wandless and not well liked by the Death Eaters as I torture many of them at Voldemort’s orders. You guys saved me a second time that day, and then Harry saved me a third time during my trial._

_It was a month later that the nightmares started. At first I didn’t understand why I was having them, however I quickly realized it was because of all the things I’d done and all the things I saw. Fred’s face flashed in my mind several times. Though I didn’t witness his death by Bellatrix’s hand, I did see him lying dead after the deed was done. Seeing someone who was always so jovial, without that mischievous glimmer in his brown eyes caused everything to hit home. My family had survived a war when we were forced to follow the wrong side. Many members of the light were gone and we less deserving people still had our lives. Maybe not our sanity, but we still had our lives. My cousin’s son was left an orphan. Teddy will never know the love of his mother or the gentile smile of his father. Why is it that the loving parents are the ones who die when the child is still young and my cold hearted father is still around?_

_When I returned to reattempt my seventh year, I discovered many female members of my house desired me as a husband. Those who chase after me and bat their eyes are not anyone I’d ever want to marry. Many of them still hold true to the blood purity nonsense even after we lost so much magical blood during the war. I guess my views on blood status have changed, as I believe that there are already so few of us. Why should pureblood families continue to inbreed to potentially keep the blood pure? I know you will not believe a word I’ve written in this letter unless I find a way to prove to you by my actions that I have changed. However, I do hope my words help you better understand me._

_Draco_

Hermione read the whole letter two times before she made it back to her room. She didn’t know what she expected the letter to contain, but she clearly didn’t expect a confession upon that scale from her former torturer. He admitted to feeling grief at seeing the dead body of Fred. Then she remembered what a wreck he really was during the Battle of Hogwarts. She saw him giving out cries of anguish outside of the Room of Requirement with Goyle because of Crabbe’s death. To think his sorrow was still there, even though Crabbe’s father was responsible for such horrible acts against his mother. If he was willing to share with her things that he may not have admitted to another living soul, then was it possible that his feelings for her were genuine? Could she actually allow her own feelings to develop? Would it be safe to give her large Gryffindor heart to a Slytherin? A broken one that only wishes to be loved for who he is rather than what he has. Could being Draco Malfoy really be that challenging?

* * *

Hermione allowed time to pass as she continued to read the letter over and over again until she had every word of it committed to her memory. It wasn’t too long after returning to Longbourn with Jane that Lavender succeeded in talking Molly and Arthur into allowing her to travel to Brighton with Colonel Forester and his wife. Hermione knew what was to follow from that decision but she figured it would be a perfect test for Draco. After Lavender left and Parvarti went around the house complaining that she couldn’t go, Hermione received notification from her mother that they wouldn’t be able to travel farther north than as Mr. Gardner’s vacation was delayed by two weeks due to business. Hermione knew what visiting Derbyshire meant and part of her secretly wanted to see Draco again. She wanted to see how he was doing since he left her presence. She wanted to know so many more things than the ones he shared. Part of her realized he probably saved her some of the details, as he felt it best not to delve too deep into a past he adamantly wished to forget.

Hermione had to hold back her tears once more when she spotted her parents on that warm July morning when they arrived. She made a vow in that moment to spend all summer searching for her parents if the Order still hadn’t located them and she would remove the memory charm. She was apprehensive as to how they would respond when it was removed, but she hoped they’d forgive her for doing what she thought was necessary to protect them. She sat in the carriage with both of her parents as they made their journey to Derbyshire where she would visit Mr. Darcy’s home. She couldn’t help but wonder and hope her assumption wasn’t correct, that Pemberley would resemble Malfoy Manor too closely. She also wondered who she’d see as Georgiana Darcy. She had no idea who she could be as Malfoy had no sister. She would’ve thought it was Luna; however she was already portraying the part of her sister Mary. 

When the carriage stopped in front of the elegant manor grounds, Hermione smiled when she noticed the albino peacocks strutting around in some of the gardens. She looked up on the house on the hill and realized that though the building resembled the manor in architecture and style, the darkness she’d seen during the war was missing. It was as if the outside of the manor had been whitewashed or the stones were pressure washed or sand blasted. Perhaps it was the time difference and the manor looked the way it did during the era. However, she happily followed her parents for a tour of the home. Secretly, she was wishing nothing was recognizable.

They waited for the housekeeper in the main hall. Hermione didn’t have the opportunity to view the entrance hall the last time she’d visited the manor, as she was hurriedly rushed through the hallways to the parlor by the disgusting smelling Greyback who had her by the nape of her neck. She gazed around wondering how different the version of Malfoy Manor she was experiencing in the book varied from its current state in her reality. It was far lighter than she expected of a family whose ancestors were so intertwined in the Dark Arts that Lucius didn’t even hesitate before becoming a Death Eater in his youth. It was rumored that Abraxas was more than happy when he discovered his son’s dark mark.  Hermione wasn’t sure how true that was but she was drawn to the portraits in the room. She was shocked to discover they were moving like the ones from the Wizarding world. Above the arched doorway at the end of the hall, a large portrait of a long haired blond man stood. He had similar features to Lucius but his eyes were blue instead of gray. He wore long gilded dress robes with intricate embroidery of displaying male peacocks in their glory of greens, blues, and gold.  She stared up at him and the portrait spoke, which reminded her of the headmaster portraits at Hogwarts. She looked around the hall and noticed that her mother and father were frozen in place as if time stopped within the book.

“Ms. Granger, we know what has brought you to this ancient ancestral home of the Bad Faith. I know you probably think that I am Abraxas Malfoy, but you are mistaken. I am Brutus Malfoy and this manor resembles the way it looked during the Regency Era before the curse. Of course we got the name Bad Faith because of the many oaths my ancestors broke during their accumulation of wealth. This curse is one that I fear affects the young Draco. There’s a reason why he’s seen so much darkness in his life.”

He paused for a few moments as if he was waiting for the information to be processed by the curly haired witch, “My grandson followed my idiotic beliefs of superiority to an extreme before the rise of the Dark Lord. Of course things become much clearer in death; I fear my ideas were constructed purely out of fear. You have to understand the century I came from was dangerous. If muggles discovered you were a Witch or Wizard, you were likely to find yourself tied to a stake and burned. Anyway, enough with my poor decisions when I was living, as I was saying my Grandson Marcus killed several witches and wizards who consorted with muggles. One of the witches he killed was a powerful sorceress who was also a great seer. She could see where his anti-muggle and pure-blood supremacy would lead future generations of the Malfoy family. She warned Marcus before he cast the killing curse that if he were to take her life, his family would fall to darkness and someday bowed down to someone who was the product of a Muggle and a Witch. He didn’t heed the warning and that’s what put our manor under so much darkness that and the buildup of dark magic.”

 Hermione shook her head not believing she was having a conversation with one of Malfoy’s ancestors within a muggle novel created by Fred and George. She underestimated their talent until that point. She shook her head of the thought and furrowed her brow, “I’m sorry Mr. Malfoy, but I don’t understand how a warning of the future constitutes a curse.”

His light eyebrows perked up, “You are quite astute perhaps there is hope for Draco, after all. You see she performed a powerful, ancient, wandless, magic that required sacrifice. She could’ve escaped his wand but instead she chose to use her death to make him pay. For one, she made it so that a Malfoy could only produce one male heir. We have not had more than one child since, which prevents the family line from growing. The second thing the curse did was make sure that when a Malfoy man loved someone, he would experience nothing but torment. Think about the way Lucius looked at the end of the war. By that point the curse had fully attacked him, leaving him a shell of a person, and he lost all respect from both his wife and his son.”

“Did this woman ever say how the curse could be broken?”

“You see, the woman was Hector Dagworth-Granger’s daughter, Helena. He also had a son who wasn’t home at the time of Marcus’ visit. She must’ve seen that one of her brother’s son’s would be a squib and that eventually two squib descendants from two very strong magical family lines would come together. From that union, a very unique and talented muggle-born witch would arrive in the world.  She knew that the limited pure-blood views of the Malfoy’s would limit the opportunity for the curse to be broken. The only way the darkness and suffering can be lifted from the Malfoy males is for one to fall in love with someone of two worlds from Helena’s line.”

Hermione furrowed her brow, “So, you’re saying that the only way to spare Draco a lifetime of misery, if he fell in love with some pureblood like Pansy or one of the Greengrass sisters, is for him to fall in love with me because I’m a muggle-born witch from Helena’s family line? I would really like to help, but I’m sure that Draco’s incapable of falling in love with me.”

A smile lit up the aristocratic features, and he let out a hardy chuckle, “For the Brightest Witch of her Age, you can easily overlook important details. Either that or you’re just in complete denial. My descendant is in the same boat as Mr. Darcy. He has fallen for you, but he doesn’t believe that you could ever reciprocate his feelings. The curse attacked him at a young age because of the love he had for his mother. You’re his only hope, Ms. Granger.”

She went to say something but the portrait stopped moving and time started again within the book. She couldn’t help but shake the feeling that something really weird was going on. She had a lot more to consider than she first thought possible. The elderly and distinguished housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, arrived in the guise of Madam Pomfrey. They followed her through the manor and she noticed it wasn’t anything like the one she’d visited in her reality. Hermione robotically went through the tour and the conversations about Mr. Darcy and Mrs. Reynolds hope that her master would spend more time at Pemberley if he married.

They soon left the home and when she looked back she stood within twenty yards of Draco. She couldn’t help but think about the conversation she had with the portrait of one of his oldest ancestors. His letter played again in her mind, and she couldn’t help but wonder if she could truly relieve him of so much pain by just opening up her heart to him. They walked around the park, they conversed, and Draco invited her father to go fishing. At the end of the walk Draco played his part and never deviated as he asked if he could introduce his sister. Hermione of course accepted and still wondered in the back of her mind, who Georgiana could be. However, the encounter ended far too quickly and soon they were back in the carriage and her mother was commenting on his wonderful manners.

As perfect to his book character, Draco presented his sister to her the morning after their arrival at Lambton. She made sure everything was perfect and upon their arrival she was shocked to see none other than Gabrielle Delacour playing the role of Georgiana. After a few moments of pause, she quickly determined she would be the best fit. Thinking about the other’s who might’ve played her part; Gabrielle was the closest in appearance to Draco. There existed almost the perfect age difference between the two; however she was chronologically younger than the sixteen year old character she was portraying.  She did find it odd to see the outgoing quarter Veela, playing a shy and overly quiet girl. If Draco hadn’t invaded her story then perhaps she would’ve realized that both Darcy siblings had timid and introverted demeanors.

When the two left, she still had much to think about, as she still had yet to process what Brutus had shared with her. Was Draco really falling in love with her and could she really be his only salvation? The more she turned the idea around in her mind; she found more and more logical truths in what the portrait had shared. She couldn’t help but wonder if Draco knew the truth behind his family’s fall from grace. She spent the rest of her day going over all of her childhood memories looking for any support for Draco’s growing affection over the years. She couldn’t find anything that she thought would betray his feelings. His perfect mask was always in place, which included a sneer whenever looking at a member of Gryffindor. She rubbed her temple trying to figure out what her next step would be. She knew they wouldn’t have much time before they were separated once more.

She also realized that if his feelings were real, he wouldn’t be likely to show them again. She had hurt him more than she thought possible, but he hid it well. Did he really believe he was so unworthy of her love that he accepted her tactless refusal? Her heart ached as she felt her growing affection and realized she’d missed her opportunity. With the way Draco was raised, he was quite unlikely to share his true feelings with anyone. The one time he decided to be brave, she belittled him for it. She refused to believe his sincerity and shred any integrity he may have had. She was heartless, cruel, and mistreated him. How could she make it up to him when she so blatantly crushed his heart, which he may’ve put out on the line for the first time in his life? How could she have been so cold hearted?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I started typing Draco’s letter and I fear that it turned out longer than I first anticipated. I hope that no one is upset that I decided to skip past her leaving Rosings, picking up Jane in London, meeting Wickham in Meryton, and Parvati and Lavender crying about the military leaving. I just wanted to move along, as none of that would’ve changed from the original story as Hermione would’ve just gone along with the scripting. The changes occur when she’s forced to face Draco. Also, I’m not sure where that curse thing came in, but apparently that portrait had something to say.


	12. Interrupting Ron and Lavender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Series (1997-2007) and any characters and original locations within the books belong to JK Rowling. I own my original characters and my plot. I am not trying to pass any of these characters or copyrighted ideas off as my own and therefore it isn’t plagiarism or copyright infringement. Pride and Prejudice belongs to Jane Austen, I am only borrowing her world and some of her dialog.

Theo paced back and forth across the Head’s Common Room. A couple of days had passed since Draco and Hermione disappeared into a work of muggle fiction, and now he was reading about a curse placed upon the Malfoys because of the acts of one Marcus Malfoy hundreds of years earlier. He couldn’t understand how something like that could come out within a joke book. He pinched the bridge of his nose before returning the book to his protective robe pocket and doing what he did best whenever an unanswered question was presented to him. He went to the library.  He doubted he’d find any real information within the walls, however the library of Hogwarts had been around well before the curse was placed upon those of bad faith. He opened retrieved the book, opened it to the marked page, and reread the words of Brutus Malfoy’s portrait aloud; “ _You see she performed a powerful, ancient, wandless, magic that required sacrifice. She could’ve escaped his wand but instead she chose to use her death to make him pay_.”

He sighed as he closed the book a second time and returned it to the safety of his robes. He entered the restricted section of the library, as he figured the ancient magic used was probably forgotten, and perhaps located there. He ran his fingers along each of the books’ bindings, while another question filled his mind. He couldn’t help but wonder if the Malfoy’s were aware of the curse? Had they forgotten about it over the years? Were they just so struck by the Dark Arts that they never noticed how things got worse when they loved another person, or was Lucius the first person to love his wife in the family line? Theo sighed as he realized that it was possible, as often as not Malfoy’s participated in the tradition of arranged marriages. He knew that Lucius and Narcissa had left the country because of the bad publicity they were receiving in England, however he had a nagging feeling that he needed to inform them of the curse.  He sighed and made note to himself that he needed to contact them as quickly as possible. So, he made his way back to the common room, quickly jotted down the note, and went to find his owl. He knew that his owl Heathcliff would be his best option. He did love the muggle book Wuthering Heights, as it had all of the darkness, horror, and impropriety that any rebelling pure-blood wizard could enjoy.

* * *

Draco knew what to expect because of the many times he read the book after leaving Hermione. Something about being away from her just for a few moments within the book left his heart heavy. When she was around, some brightness existed for him that he’d never experienced before. It was as if just being in her presence was almost enough to forgive him of his many sins. He had defended his actions in the letter he wrote to her, however there were still things he did that he would never forgive himself for. He could make the excuses that he was forced to do it, it was under duress, but it didn’t change the fact that he tortured people. He had used, in his opinion, the worst Unforgivable Curse when he tortured other death eaters. Just seeing the person wreathing in pain at his feet was horrible. Many times he’d wake up with sweats, when those images invaded his dreams. The worst nightmares were of Hermione and his mother. In those dreams he was the one causing them pain. He took the place of Bellatrix or Crabbe and Goyle Sr. When he woke up from one of those dreams; he barely made it to the toilet before anything he’d eaten made a late night showing. It was just too much for his mind and body to handle.

In some ways, Draco was relieved to be trapped in the book, as he hadn’t had a night terror since entering the world. It was magical in the sense that he could get lost in the character he was playing. The world was so different from his own that he didn’t have a constant reminder of his past. Even visiting his family home within the book didn’t cause flashbacks. The manor was different; it was lighter, less burdened, and somehow just lovely. None of the dark residue was present, and it seemed like a loving home that he would be proud to live in with Hermione for the rest of his life. He stopped walking around the room and turned to his party. He couldn’t help but mentally sputter over the thoughts he just had. Had he really thought, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Hermione Granger? He thought about it for a few moments and quickly realized he did. He didn’t know when the change occurred, but he was thinking about a wedded future with her. He quietly excused himself from the She-Weasel’s incessant flirting, and went to his room to retire.

His room was located in the same spot as his bedroom in the manor in his reality. When he opened the doors the previous evening, he was shocked by the lightness of the room. It still had the green and silver striped wall paper, and everything about it was the same, however it was as if the sun shone brighter. There was no reason for Pemberley to seem lighter and more welcoming than his manor. Nothing short of magic could create such a wonderful change. It was as if the Malfoys had aligned themselves with the light side instead of the darkness in which they existed. It was like their home was never overrun with the most despicable characters of the Wizard World and witnessed several heinous acts from torture to murder. He tried to clear his mind as he dressed and climbed into the king sized bed. As soon as his head hit he pillow he drifted off into another night of blissful sleep.

* * *

Draco sat down by the river with Mr. Gardiner, Mr. Bingley, and two other gentlemen as they fished. He continued with the idol gentlemanly conversation as they were successful in catching a few fish. When he was informed of the appearance of Hermione and Mrs. Gardner, the party decided to return to the house to join the women. He found Mrs. Gardiner and Hermione sitting next to his sister Georgiana, with Astoria, Umbridge, and the she-Weasel sitting on the couch across from them.

As soon as the redhead noticed their appearance, she started flirting with him, and showing her brother attention as well. Draco felt his blood run cold when he was so rudely reminded of Ronald Weasley when the bint decided to sneer at Hermione but managed to keep her tone civil, “Pray, Miss Eliza, are not the Hertfordshire Militia removed from Meryton? They must be a great loss to _your_ family.”

Draco felt the color drain from his face, as he watched Hermione for her response. He wanted to see if she’d betray her true feelings for the thick bloke. He knew in his gut that she must be wishing that Ron was Mr. Darcy and he was playing the horrible character Wickham. She probably thought because of all of his past behavior that he was better suited for such an unfavorable character. Then again Ron was well liked and showing up on several of the covers of Wizarding Magazines because of his contributions to the war. Draco shook his head when he noticed Hermione staring at him. He tried to join the conversation with the other gentlemen as a distraction. After Hermione carefully steered the conversation away from Wickham, she and the other two members of her party were keen on leaving. He attended to their carriage and upon returning to the saloon after they’d left, he found himself in for another fight with the red headed weasel.

She quickly approached him, “How very ill Miss Eliza Bennet looks this morning, Mr. Darcy. I never in my life saw anyone so much altered as she is since the winter. She is gown so brown and coarse! Louisa and I were agreeing that we should not have known her again.”

He played his cool and aloof persona, “I perceive no other alteration than her being rather tanned, no miraculous consequence of travelling during the summer.”

The red head began bouncing like a child hopped up on candy, “For my own part, I must confess that I never could see any beauty in her. Her face is too thin; and her features are not at all handsome. Her nose wants character—there is nothing marked in its lines. Her teeth are tolerable, but not out of the common way; and as for her eyes, which have sometimes been called so fine, I could never see anything extraordinary in them. They have a sharp, shrewish look, which I do not like at all; and in her air altogether there is a self-sufficiency without fashion, which is intolerable.”

Draco remained quiet realizing the words seemed to describe what Hermione looked like as a child. Her teeth were a bit larger until their Forth Year and a mishap with a curse that he may or may not have shot. She always cared more about knowledge and skill than appearance and fashion; however he found that was what made her so unique. She wasn’t shallow and motivated by materialistic wealth like most of the girls that wouldn’t leave him alone in Slytherin.

The redhead continued as her face colored slightly in rage, “I remember, when we first knew her in Hertfordshire, how amazed we all were to find that she was a reputed beauty; and I particularly recollect your saying one night, after they had been dining at Netherfield, ‘ _She_ a beauty!—I should as soon call her mother a wit.’ But afterwards she seemed to improve on you, and I believe you thought her rather pretty at one time.’

Draco knew he had to speak as he didn’t want to deviate from the script with the slag before him. She was already grating on his nerves and he surely hoped that the real girl was nothing like the witless bird before him. “Yes but _that_ was only when I first saw her, for it is many months since I have considered her as one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance.” He then turned and fled the situation like spiders from a basilisk.

* * *

Draco went to Lambert to visit Hermione, but her appearance as the servant opened the door betrayed all of her feelings. Her face was red and tear tracks were apparent. She exclaimed, “I beg your pardon, but I must leave you. I must find Mr. Gardiner this moment, on business that cannot be delayed, I have not an instant to lose.”

He felt his stomach drop as he knew what she was upset about. She must’ve been reliving her sixth year all over again. She was upset that Ron had once again chosen Lavender over her. Of course, she had nothing to worry about in their reality as Lavender was another victim during the Battle of Hogwarts. He didn’t want to concentrate on the blank face that stared back at him before her body was moved to the Great Hall. She was just another person he went to school with that died. The emotions from his musings showed as he grabbed her by the shoulders, “Good God! What is the matter?” He quickly recollected himself and hid behind the mask. He knew what was wrong and he knew his time with her was ending, but it didn’t matter because he was never going to be good enough for her. “I will not detain you a minute; but let me, or let the servant go after Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. You are not well enough; you cannot go yourself.”

Her knees seemed to give before she made it to the sofa. She called the servant back and requested he fetch his master and mistress home instantly. Draco couldn’t leave her in that state, “Let me call your maid. Is there nothing you could take to give you present relief? A glass of wine; shall I get you one? You are very ill.”

Hermione calmed her breathing, “No, I thank you. There is nothing the matter with me. I am quite well; I am only distressed by some dreadful news which I have just received from Longbourn.” She managed to lose her composure for a few moments before she continued, “I have just had a letter from Jane, with such dreadful news. It cannot be concealed from anyone. My younger sister has left all her friends—has eloped; has thrown herself into the power of—of Mr. Wickham. They are gone off together from Brighton. _You_ know him too well to doubt the rest. She has no money, no connections, nothing that can tempt him to—she is lost for ever.”

Draco stood astonished by her emotions. It was only a brief pause before she continued, “When I consider that I might have prevented it! I, who knew what he was. Had I but explained some part of it only—some part of what I learnt, to my own family! Had his character been known, this could not have happened. But it is all—all too late now.”

Draco wished he knew for certain the true reason for her emotions. He was aware that she knew the book by heart. She knew this scene was coming. He thought she’d have more reaction to confronting his aunt than dealing with the fact that Lavender ran off with Ron, however he stood there with her reacting like a heart broken school girl.  He felt himself robotically respond to the situation as his heart broke, she loved the Weasel more than anything, and in that moment Draco realized he didn’t have a chance. “I am grieved indeed; grieved—shocked. But is it certain—absolutely certain?”

“Oh, yes! They left Brighton together on Sunday night, and were traced almost to London, but not beyond; they are certainly not gone to Scotland.”

His mouth moved without his notice and the scripting continued to fall out, “And what has been done, what has been attempted, to recover her?”

“My father is gone to London, and Jane has written to beg my uncle’s immediate assistance; and we shall be off, I hope, in half-an-hour. But nothing can be done—I know very well that nothing can be done. How is such a man to be worked on? How are they even to be discovered? I have not the smallest hope. It is every way horrible!”

Draco shook his head as he listened to her hopeless words. It was almost as if she was trying to convey something to him underneath the scripting, however he didn’t know what it was. He was afraid to deviate from the Jane Austen’s words. He was afraid of receiving rejection from her a second time. He felt worse than he ever considered possible. His dreams were shattering, wasn’t it just a couple days prior that he’d considered a future with her? He’d thought of marriage and now he was far certain that dream would never happen. Somehow the nightmares of his reality had infiltrated the wonderful world of the book. He was slowly corrupting it and soon it would be as dark as his very soul.

Tears continued to form in her eyes, “When _my_ eyes were opened to his real character—Oh! Had I known what I ought, what I dared to do! But I knew not—I was afraid of doing too much. Wretched, wretched mistake!”

Draco couldn’t take much more of her emotion, as he was trying to keep himself together. He knew he’d always been selfish. He was spoiled rotten as a child, so it was only to be expected. But even though his heart was breaking with the knowledge that the love he developed for her was unrequited, a bubble of hope grew inside of him. He would survive and find the light within him as long as she was happy. As long as she lived a long and fulfilling life with the Weasel, he could manage. However, he couldn’t do anything about their reality until they finished the story.

Draco found the resolve to make things right and once again spoke with restraint, “I am afraid you have been long desiring my absence, nor have I anything to plead in excuse of my stay, but real, though unavailing concern. Would to Heaven that anything could be either said or done on my part that might offer consolation to such distress! But I will not torment you with vain wishes, which may seem purposely to ask for your thanks. This unfortunate affair will, I fear, prevent my sister’s having the pleasure of seeing you at Pemberley to-day.”

“Oh, yes. Be so kind as to apologize for us to Miss Darcy. Say that urgent business calls us home immediately. Conceal the unhappy truth as long as it is possible, I know it cannot be long.”

“I shall keep it secret and again I feel pained by your distress. I wish things will have a better conclusion and that everyone in your family is as well as can be expected.” He looked at her for one long moment before leaving the room. His spirits were lower than they’d been since she berated him and told him what she really thought of him. He felt as if darkness was surrounding him and soon he’d be nothing more of the person he once was. All because her gold specked brown eyes were concentrated on another unworthy soul.

* * *

It took him a bit of time before he was able to make it to London. He had learned a few tracking spells and was able to locate the Inn, Ron and Lavender were staying in. He didn’t think to knock, and in reflection, he probably should’ve warned them before entering. However, as he was stuck in a Regency Era fiction, he didn’t expect to find such lewd actions occurring.  He opened the door to find Ron sprawled out on the bed starkers. His alabaster complexion looked even paler against the dirty brown sheets. Ron’s blue eyes were shut and his mouth was twisted into a stupid, pleasure clouded, smile. Lavender’s wavy hair was loose as her head bobbed over his erect penis.

Draco knew the character was supposed to be a virgin, however he could only assume Lavender’s experience seemed to have some influence. Her head came up as her cheeks appeared concave from her sucking, when she reached the top she licked circles around the head before plunging back down. At first Draco was red faced and speechless at the sight before him. He never even considered the two characters could be practicing in such frowned upon acts during their time period. He was also sickened at seeing the ginger nude. He finally cleared his throat and Ron’s eyes snapped open. What little color Ron had, further drained from his face at being caught in such an act.

Draco walked further into the room and picked up one of the blankets strewn on the floor. He tossed it over Ron’s sickening form. Lavender hid under the sheet as well, “Wickham, apparently you and I have quite a few things to discuss. However, you need to understand right now. You will marry Miss Lydia Bennet. You made your decision the moment you took her away from her friend’s home in Brighton. I shall leave the room for a moment but you’re to dress and leave with me.”

* * *

He stood in the decorated hall waiting for the ceremony to proceed. He watched as Lavender was escorted down the aisle by her Uncle Mr. Gardiner, as her father had been sent back to Longbourn. He was quite saddened watching the two wed as part of him really wished what he was witnessing was reality. If Ron was really marrying Lavender, then he might have a shot at Hermione; however, since the scene wasn’t real, but only contained within the pages of a novel, no hope existed. A certain brown eyed witch plagued his mind, as he watched the period wedding play out. His heart filled with hope that one day, he’d have a similar wedding to the woman he loved.

His thoughts continued as he stopped concentrating on the scene around him and his mind drifted away. Many Death Eaters didn’t understand the power of love. Draco had to admit that few of his ancestors had ever fallen in love with their wife, as they were products of arranged marriages to insure the blood remained pure. His mother and father got lucky as they grew to love each other over time; however, the war had tested that love. His father was still trying to make it up to his wife and that was part of the reason why they decided to take an extended vacation in France. Draco knew that his mother’s love was what made her lie to the Dark Lord and allowed Harry the element of surprise. His father was little of the man he once was. The war totally broke him and he needed the love of his wife to help him through it.

His grandmother had died in childbirth, leaving his grandfather the only person to raise his father. It wasn’t known if Abraxas loved his wife or if he was relieved to raise his only heir on his own. Draco barely remembered his grandfather because he’d died from Dragon Pox when Draco was still a young child. However, he did find it interesting when he looked at the Malfoy family tree that every generation since Marcus Malfoy only had one son. He couldn’t help but consider it odd that only one child, a son, was born to each generation. His mind snapped back to the scene as the Clergyman announced that the two were husband and wife.


	13. Facing one’s Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Series (1997-2007) and any characters and original locations within the books belong to JK Rowling. I own my original characters and my plot. I am not trying to pass any of these characters or copyrighted ideas off as my own and therefore it isn’t plagiarism or copyright infringement. Pride and Prejudice belongs to Jane Austen, I am only borrowing her world and some of her dialog.

George read through the story and was surprised by the thoughts that went through Malfoy’s mind. He couldn’t help but feel bad for the guy. He was on the wrong side, but he didn’t really have a choice. He was shocked that the ferret was mourning the death of Fred, as well. Thinking of his twin caused tears to form in his eyes. How was he supposed to continue with the joke shop without him? Ron had stepped in to help with it, and he was surprisingly quite clever, however he was no replacement for Fred. Ron was also busy with Auror training on top of helping with the shop. He was so busy that he didn’t have time for a long distance relationship with Hermione.

George paced back and forth across the small flat he once shared with Fred. He tried to find ways to memorialize his twin. He knew that if Fred were a ghost, he’d have a smile on his face. Fred would ask him why he wasn’t living life and would probably be mad that George wasn’t carrying on defusing the tension and making everyone laugh. He wouldn’t want him to spend so much time mourning his death because Fred would live on in everything George did. They were two halves of the same soul. It was just as likely that Fred wasn’t a ghost because he just reunited with the soul that split in the first place.  If that were the case, then Fred was literally living on within him.

 _Took you long enough to figure that one out._ Fred’s voice boomed in his head followed by his familiar laugh. George stopped pacing wondering if he just hallucinated. _You’re not going crazy. Instead of worrying about going around a twist, you should try the disappearing fist. Go for a muggle right and watch your opponent flinch. Come on Georgie, show Ron the ropes and keep the dream alive._

He looked around the room, “Fred is that really you?”

 _No, you’ve gone completely nutters. If I knew my death would do this to you, I would’ve made sure Percy bit the dust instead._ The laughter filling his mind was contagious.

“Why didn’t you show up before now? Why did you let me lose my sense of humor for so long? Why did you let me be so serious?” George set down the book.

_Come on, watching you mourn me was the biggest joke of them all. If I’d showed up right away, you really would’ve checked yourself into a muggle padded room. No, I couldn’t have that now, could I? You never lost your sense of humor. You sent out those Joke Books to our friends and family after all. How is Percy enjoying his trip through Stephen King’s Misery? I really did think that one was fitting! So, have you read the part about the curse yet?_

George’s eyes widened, “Curse?”

_Ah, well you see. There was a curse placed on the Malfoy family by one of Hermione’s distant ancestors. She thinks the only way she can break it is to have a relationship with the ferret. You might want to bring that book to Bill and hope that he’s not trapped in The Lord of the Rings right now. We really shouldn’t have made that book, it was far too long. Then again, Bill always did love Middle Earth._

George rolled his eyes, “Yeah, I didn’t send him one. Like I wanted to deal with his backlash, he’s a curse breaker. He knows too many scary spells. However, I did send Charley _Aragorn_. I really hope he enjoys speaking with Dragons.”

_Well, what are you waiting for? Bring that bloody book to our eldest brother. If anyone can assist Hermione with that curse it’s him. We can’t have her courting nor marrying the ferret now, can we?_

George shivered, “Hermione Malfoy, that’s just so wrong on so many levels. Even if the prat changed, he will never be worthy of our Hermione.”

_Yes well, neither is Ron. You see a great thing about being dead is that I can spy on anyone at any time. So, guess what? Our youngest brother is keeping a very dark secret. One worthy of Dumbledore, which I converse with frequently by the way, can you guess what that secret is?_

George gasped, “Oh, please don’t tell me. You know, it makes sense now that I think about it.”

* * *

Hermione knew what was coming. Lavender and Ron returned back to Longbourn for a visit. Lavender pulled off a perfect Lydia as she explained the removal of her glove and showing off her ring. Hermione could only roll her eyes and act just as cool toward Ron. The more time she spent with Draco, the more she realized that Ron wasn’t the person for her. There was always something about the relationship that seemed a bit off. They kissed during the heat of the moment, but as she reflected on it, it seemed as though he was holding back. Hermione received the letter from her mother explaining Mr. Darcy’s involvement in Lavender and Ron’s marriage. Of course, it was after she sent her letter inquiring about something said. The letter she received back was a bit different than the original from the book. She couldn’t help but wonder if her presence was somehow affecting the characters in the novel. As there was a PS added to the end of the letter. It simply stated that Darcy was present at the wedding but seemed rather distant. He seemed to be mentally vacant and rather sad.

Hermione spent time wondering why Draco would act in such a way at a wedding. She was crying when she followed the scripting about the two running off, however it wasn’t for the same reason as Elizabeth in the book. She really didn’t care about what Lavender and Ron did. She knew in her reality that Lavender had died at the hands of Greyback, and something told her there was a key piece to the puzzle of Ron that she was missing. Something told her the two of them were better friends for a reason she had yet to place. She knew that she’d need to write that letter as soon as she escaped from the book. She needed to tell Ron what she was feeling. She only hoped that they could keep their friendship. Especially, since Ron couldn’t stand Draco, and she needed to be in his life or he’d be as broken as his father once the curse was done with him. Getting to know him, she started to care for the person hiding behind the cool and aloof mask. She was so sad being in that room with him because she knew that soon the story would be soon over and the two of them would return to their reality.

They were so isolated in the light book world they were living in. Everything could fall apart as soon as they were released. She needed to somehow find a portrait of Brutus that wasn’t at Pemberley. She needed to know what she had to do to save him. She could no longer deny her feelings for him. She cared about him and never wanted to see him hurt. He already saw so much darkness from the curse because he loved his mother. Something told her that the only way she could have the conversation with Brutus would be upon returning to Pemberley and her returning there meant she was far too close to the end of the book. What was going to happen as soon as the isolation disappeared and Draco was thrust back into his expectation riddled world? Would he marry a pure-blood witch to satisfy his parents’ desires, or would he even consider following his heart. She sighed. If he still had those feelings for her after she rejected him in the worse way.

Shortly after Lavender and Ron left, news of Bills return to Netherfield spread through town like wildfire. Professor McGonagall was present to inform her sister Molly and her daughters of the news. Hermione knew what his return would bring and she only hoped she could find the same happiness with Draco that Eliza found with Darcy. However, she knew that it would also bring a demon from her past. A skeleton she hoped to burry forever with one final confrontation.

On the third day after Bill’s return to Netherfield, Molly hollered for her girls to come watch his arrival from her dressing-room window, Fleur remained seated at the table, but Hermione joined her at the window. She made note of Draco’s arrival and retook her seat next to Fleur at the table.

Parvati gasped, “There is a gentleman with him, mamma, who can it be?”

Molly squinted at the window attempting to make the man out, however after a few moments of staring the man remained unrecognized. She dismissed him with a fluid hand movement, “Some acquaintance or other, my dear, I suppose; I am sure I do not know.”

“La!” Parvati chortled as she recognized the man. “It looks just like that man that used to be with him before. Mr. what’s-his-name. That tall, proud man.”

Molly’s face went red with suppressed anger, “Good gracious! Mr. Darcy!—and so it does, I vow. Well, any friend of Mr. Bingley’s will always be welcome here, to be sure; but else I must say that I hate the very sight of him.”

Fleur’s eyes swept over Hermione with surprise and concern. She knew all about her interactions with Mr. Darcy. Hermione knew the character Jane suspected her sister’s growing affection for the proud man. Hermione felt the warmth of her cheeks as a hope welled in her that Draco’s feelings remained undeterred after her horrible rejection of him. She smiled, “Let me first see how he behaves. It will then be enough for explanation.”

Upon their appearance, Draco was much more ridged. He wasn’t as welcoming as he had been at Pemberley, however Hermione figured it was something similar to Eliza’s presumption regarding Darcy’s reason for the same response. Hermione figured that he was more comfortable around her parents as he had never met them in his reality, however Molly stood for something and he likely couldn’t feel comfortable around the Weasley Matriarch.

Hermione wanted to converse with Draco only, as there was so much she needed to discuss with him. However, she couldn’t risk being overheard, so she inconspicuously reached for her wand and whispered, “ _Muffliato_.”

Draco looked over at her with a raised eyebrow, “I’m guessing there’s something not related to this story in which you wish to discuss.”

Hermione chuckled, “You’ve been her too long. You sound way to much like Darcy.” She noticed a pink tinge reaching his cheeks. “Yes, I do have something to discuss with you. How much do you know about your ancestor Marcus Malfoy?”

“I haven’t researched my family tree that extensively; however I do know he was one of the first to walk head long into the Dark Arts.” He stopped for a moment, “Wait, how do you know about my ancestry?”

Hermione took a deep breath and explained the conversation she had with the portrait of Brutus in the entry hall of Pemberley. His eyes widened many times and his mouth dropped open. When she finished he cleared his throat, “So, what you’re saying is the only way I can break the curse is by falling in love with you?”

Hermione nodded and went quiet. She didn’t know what else to tell him after spilling such burdensome news. Her attention snapped back to the conversations around them.

Molly was addressing Bill, “It is a long time, Mr. Bingley, since you went away.” Bill quickly agreed, so she continued. “I began to be afraid you would never come back again. People _did_ say you made to quit the place entirely at Michaelmas; but, however, I hope it is not true. A great many changes have happened in the neighbourhood, since you went away. Miss Lucas is married and settled. And one of my own daughters. I suppose you have heard of it; indeed, you must have seen it in the papers. It was in _The Times_ and _The Courier_ , I know; though it was not put in as it ought to be. It was only said, ‘Lately, George Wickham, Esq. to Miss Lydia Bennet,’ without there being a syllable said of her father, or the place where she lived, or anything. It was my brother Gardiner’s drawing up too, and I wonder how he came to make such an awkward business of it. Did you see it?”

Bill stated he did see it and offered some congratulations before Molly continued. “It is a delightful thing, to be sure, to have a daughter married, but at the same time, Mr. Bingley, it is very hard to have her taken such a way from me. They are gone down to Newcastle, a place quite northward, it seems, and there they are to stay I do not know how long. His regiment is there; for I suppose you have herd of his leaving the Hertfordshire, and of his being gone into the regulars. Thank Heaven! He has _some_ friends, though perhaps not so many as he deserves.”

Hermione felt herself cringe at Molly’s words. She was very aware of everything and the dig at Mr. Darcy’s character was totally uncalled for but best painted their mother’s misdirected opinions. Hermione did her part by asking Bill if he had any plans of staying in the country for a bit. He responded that he was planning on staying for a few weeks he believed.

Molly’s voice took on a chipper one that resembled too closely to Pansy Parkinson’s or Lavender’s girlish pitch. Hermione fought the need to clear her ears with a rude gesture.  “When you have killed all your own birds, Mr. Bingley, I beg you will come here, and shoot as many as you please on Mr. Bennet’s manor. I am sure he will be vastly happy to oblige you, and will save all the best of the covies for you.”

She invited them to dinner at Longbourn in a few days. “Your are quite a visit in my debt, Mr. Bingley, for when you went to town last winter, you promised to take a family dinner with us, as soon as you returned. I have not forgot, you see; and I assure you, I was very much disappointed that you did not come back and keep your engagement.”

Bill looked a little abashed by her statement and quickly explained that business kept him from keeping it.

* * *

A few days after the dinner, Bill arrived at Longbourn alone. He informed them that Darcy had left for London but would return ten days later. He sat with them for a bit and Molly invited him to dinner but he stated that he was previously engaged. She invited him for the following day and he accepted. He arrived so early the following morning that none of the ladies had the opportunity to dress. Molly was running around the manor like a chicken with her head cut off. “My dear Jane, make haste and hurry down. He is come—Mr. Bingley is come. He is, indeed. Make haste, make haste. Here, Sarah, come to Miss Bennet this moment, and help her on with her gown. Never mind Miss Lizzy’s hair.”

Fleur ushered their mother out of the room, “We will be down as soon as we can, but I dare say Kitty is forwarder than either of us, for she went up stairs half an hour ago.”

Molly continued to flit around, “Oh! Hang Kitty! What has she to do with it? Come be quick, be quick! Where is your sash, my dear?”

After tea, Arthur retired to the library, Luna went upstairs to practice her instrument, which left Molly with two more obstacles before Fleur and Bill would be left alone. Hermione knew exactly what she was doing and had to hold back laughter at her foolishness. She sat there winking at both she and Parvarti for an extended amount of time. Hermione pretended not to see and when Parvati did notice her she inquired, “What is the matter mamma? What do you keep winking at me for? What am I to do?”

“Nothing child, nothing. I did not wink at you.” Molly tried to hide her blush at having her attempts at inconspicuous manipulation being brought to light. She waited for five more minutes before she suddenly got up and turned to Parvati, “Come here, my love, I want to speak to you,” and took her out of the room.

Fleur eyes widened as she looked upon Hermione and reminded her of a deer caught in the headlights. Hermione tried to assure her that she wouldn’t give into her mother’s manipulation; however she knew that she wouldn’t be able to stay for too long before she was forcibly removed from the room by Molly. A few minutes later Molly half opened the door, “Lizzy, my dear, I want to speak with you.”

Hermione shot an apologetic look at Fleur before leaving. Upon reaching Molly in the hall, the red headed woman explained, “We may as well leave them by themselves you know; Kitty and I are going upstairs to sit in my dressing-room.”

Hermione remained in the hallway after the other two went upstairs. Bill was much like his character and accepted the invitation to stay for supper. He was very punctual with his appointment with Arthur and the two spent the morning together. Hermione went to write a letter in the breakfast room and when she returned to the Drawing Room, upon opening the door, she noticed the two standing together near the hearth. Hermione was about to leave the room when Bill quickly whispered something to Fleur before exiting the room. Fleur quickly ran to Hermione and embraced her, “‘Tis too much! By far too much. I do not deserve it. Oh! Why is not everybody as happy?”

Hermione delighted and gave her congratulations filled with all of her emotion. Fleur decided she couldn’t remain with Hermione any longer, “I must go instantly to my mother; I would not on any account trifle with her affectionate solicitude; or allow her to hear it from anyone but myself. He is gone to my father already. Oh! Lizzy, to know that what I have to relate will give such pleasure to all my dear family! How shall I bear so much happiness!”

Jane ran upstairs and Hermione remained in the room to think about how things came together so quickly once Darcy realized the feelings were shared by both. A few moments later Bill joined her as his conversation with Arthur was quick and to the point. His only words, “Where is your sister?”

Hermione smiled, “With my mother upstairs. She will be down in a moment, I dare say.”

He shut the door and expressed his happiness of having her as a sister. She shared her delight with him as well. The house was filled with excitement as the news spread like a tipped lantern spills fire. The rest of the evening passed wonderfully. Arthur didn’t share his feelings until after Bill left. He smiled warmly, “Jane, I congratulate you. You will be a very happy woman.”

Fleur approached him, kissed him, and thanked him for his kindness. He continued with his speech, which he was less known for than his wife. “You are a good girl; and I have great pleasure in thinking you will be so happily settled. I have not a doubt of your doing very well together. Your tempers are by no means unlike. You are each of you so complying, that nothing will ever be resolved on; so easy, that every servant will cheat you; and generous, that you will always exceed your income.”

Fleur smiled, “I hope not so. Imprudence or thoughtlessness in money matters would be unpardonable in me.”

Molly gave a wine, “Exceed their income! My dear Mr. Bennet, what are you talking of? Why he has four or five thousand a year, and very likely more.” She then turned to Fleur, “Oh! My dear, dear Jane, I am so happy! I am sure I shan’t get a wink of sleep all night. I knew how it would be. I always said it must be so, at last. I was sure you could not be so beautiful for nothing! I remember, as soon as ever I saw him, when he first came into Hertfordshire last year, I thought how likely it was that you should come together. Oh! He is the handsomest young man that ever was seen!”

* * *

About a week after Bingley’s engagement, he was sitting in the dining room together when their attention was drawn to the window. The sound of a carriage could be heard even though it was far too early for a visitor and they weren’t expecting anyone. Hermione let out a small gasp. She knew what was coming and she tried to gather up all of her Gryffindor Courage to face the visage of her nightmares. She was prepared to see the worst of the dead crazy witch one last time and perhaps by facing her in the lighter reality she currently existed; then perhaps she could overcome whatever was subconsciously causing her nightmares. Perhaps she’d no longer feel so helpless in her presence, and find the strength to fight for her and Draco’s budding relationship.

Bellatrix strolled into the room in the finest dress and looking to intimidate those around her. Her voice betrayed her true feelings as she spat, “I hope you are well, Miss Bennet. That lady, I suppose, is your mother.”

Hermione replied quietly that she was as she tried to keep her mind from the events that occurred in the parlor of Malfoy manor a few months prior.

Her dark eyes fixed on Parvati, “And _that_ I suppose is one of your sisters.”

Molly stood up to her with almost as much zeal as she had at Hogwarts when she dueled the bint and wiped away her existence with the killing curse, but still keeping a pleasant tone, “Yes, madam. She is my youngest girl but one. My youngest of all is lately married, and my eldest is somewhere about the grounds, walking with a young man who, I believe, will soon become a part of the family.”

Bellatrix upturned her nose, “You have a very small park here.”

Molly spoke once more, “It is nothing in comparison of Rosings, my lady, I dare say; but I assure you it is much larger than Sir William Lucas’s.”

The dark haired witch continued with her veiled insults, “This must be a most inconvenient sitting room for the evening, in summer; the windows are full west.”

Molly assured her that they never sat in the room after dinner and continued, “May I take the liberty of asking your ladyship whether you left Mr. and Mrs. Collins well.”

Hermione continued to watch the conversation with dread pooling in the bottom of her stomach. The woman who haunted her dreams for nearly a year answered, “Yes, very well. I saw them the night before last.

Molly offered her some refreshments but the hag declined rudely before turning to Hermione, “Miss Bennet, there seemed to be a prettyish kind of a little wilderness on one side of your lawn. I should be glad to take a turn in it, if you will favour me with your company.”  
Molly chuckled showing that she wasn’t the Weasley Matriarch, as she willingly sent one of her sheep off to be slaughtered in the hands of a mad woman, “Go, my dear, and show her ladyship about the different walks. I think she will be pleased with the hermitage.”

Hermione followed her part and ran into her room to retrieve her parasol and attended to her ladyship downstairs. She wanted to curse George with every curse she could think of that wasn’t an Unforgivable one. She was so upset with having to confront such a woman, a woman who could no longer hurt her because she was dead, but yet a vial woman who would never be fully removed from her memory. Sadly she left her mark with the scar on Hermione’s left forearm. She remained silent as they walked. As soon as they entered the copse the most eager follower of Voldemort spoke, “You can be at no loss, Miss Bennet, to understand the reason of my journey hither. You own heart, your own conscience, must tell you why I come.”

Hermione attempted to keep her composure with being faced with such a horrible enemy once more, “Indeed, you are mistaken, Madam. I have not been at all able to account for the honour of seeing you here.”

Bellatrix’s eyes were filled with a familiar craziness that was lacking in the past meetings. It chilled Hermione to the bone as she spoke in an all too familiar angry tone, “Miss Bennet, you ought to know, that I am not to be trifled with. But however insincere you may choose to be, _you_ shall not find _me_ so. My character has ever been celebrated for its sincerity and frankness, and in a cause of such moment as this, I shall certainly not depart from it. A report of a most alarming nature reached me two days ago. I was told that not only your sister was on the point of being most advantageously married, but that you, that Miss Elizabeth Bennet, would, in all likelihood, be soon afterwards untied to my nephew, my own nephew, Mr. Darcy. Though I know it must be a scandalous falsehood, though I would not injure him so much as to suppose the truth of it possible, I instantly resolved on setting off of this place, that I might make my sentiments known to you.”

Hermione was angered at the woman’s presence and her aforementioned insults, but she stuck with the script instead of pulling her wand, “If you believed it impossible to be true. I wonder you took the trouble of coming so far. What could your ladyship propose by it?”

“At once to insist upon having such a report universally contradicted.”

Hermione’s voice dripped with coldness reminiscent of the arctic circle in the winter, “Your coming to Longbourn, to see me and my family, will be rather a confirmation of it; if, indeed, such a report is in existence.”

Bellatrix’s voice took on her teasing lilt, “If! Do you then pretend to be ignorant of it? Has it not been industriously circulated by yourselves? Do you not know that such a report is spread abroad?”

“I never heard that it was.” Hermione found herself holding her wand under the sleeve of her dress for comfort as she faced the worst person on the planet only second to Voldemort.

“And can you likewise declare, that there is no foundation for it?”

“I do not pretend to possess equal frankness with your ladyship. You may ask questions which I shall not choose to answer.” Hermione had to hold back a smile. Standing up to Bellatrix in such a way fell so freeing and almost as good as punching Draco in their third year.

“This is not to be borne. Miss Bennet, I insist on being satisfied. Has he, has my nephew, made you an offer of marriage?”

Hermione smirked, “Your ladyship has declared it to be impossible.”

Redness colored the woman’s cheeks as she fumed, “It ought to be so; it must be so, while he retains the use of his reason. But your arts and allurements may, in a moment of infatuation, have made him forget what he owes to himself and to all of his family. You may have drawn him in.”

“If I have, I shall be the last person to confess it.” Hermione took great enjoyment in watching the colors of Bellatrix’s face change and her features contort. It was remarkable similar to that as an enraged Ron. Her mind flitted to the idea of Ron in a dress and had to suppress the giggles that threatened to erupt from her.

“Miss Bennet, do you know who I am? I have not been accustomed to such language as this. I am almost the nearest relation he has in the world, and am entitled to know all his dearest concerns.”

The moment of humor passed as her voice chilled once more, “But you are not entitled to know mine; nor will such behaviour as this, ever induce me to be explicit.”

“Let me be rightly understood. This match, to which you have the presumption to aspire, can never take place. No, never. Mr. Darcy is engaged to my daughter. Now what have you to say?”

“Only this; that if he is so, you can have no reason to suppose he will make an offer to me.”

Bellatrix hesitated for but only a moment, “The engagement between them is of a peculiar kind. From their infancy, they have been intended for each other. It was the favourite wish of _his_ mother, as well as of her’s.  While in their cradles, we planned the union: and now, at the moment when the wishes of both sisters would be accomplished in their marriage, to be prevented by a young woman of inferior birth, of no importance in the world, and wholly unallied to the family! Do you pay no regard to the wishes of his friends? To his tacit engagement with Miss de Bourgh? Are you lost to every feeling of propriety and delicacy? Have you not heard me say from his earliest hours he was destined for his cousin?”

Hermione found far too much familiarity in the speech of her enemy. It spouted the same racist ideals of blood supremacy, but only on a slightly different level.  As in either reality she was of an inferior birth, but she was of superior intellect, “Yes, and I have had heard it before. But what is that to me? If there is no other objection to my marrying your nephew, I shall certainly not be kept from it by knowing that his mother and aunt wished him to marry Miss de Bourgh. You both did as much as you could in planning the marriage. Its completion depended on others. If Mr. Darcy is neither by honour nor inclination confined to his cousin, why is not he to make another choice? And if I am that choice, why may not I accept him?”

Hermione couldn’t help but notice the nice shade of purple the woman’s face turned as she spat, “Because honour, decorum, prudence, nay, interest, forbid it. Yes, Miss Bennet, interest; for do not expect to be noticed by his family or friends, if you willfully act against the inclinations of all. You will be censured, slighted, and despised, by everyone connected with him. Your alliance will be a disgrace; your name will never even be mentioned by any of us.”

She made her voice sickly sweet only to egg the woman on more, “These are heavy misfortunes. But the wife of Mr. Darcy must have such extraordinary sources of happiness necessarily attached to her situation, that she could upon the whole, have no cause to repine.”

The woman before her lost what little decorum she had left as she yelled, “Obstinate, headstrong girl! I am ashamed of you! Is this your gratitude for my attentions to you last spring? Is nothing due to me on that score? Let us sit down. You are to understand, Miss Bennet, that I came here with the determined resolution of carrying my purpose; nor will I be dissuaded from it. I have not been used to submit to any person’s whims. I have not been in the habit of brooking disappointment.”

“ _That_ will make your ladyship’s situation more pitiable; but it will have no effect on me,” Hermione’s voice raised as well as she held her wand even tighter.

“I will not be interrupted. Hear me in silence. My daughter and my nephew are formed for each other. They are descended, on the maternal side, from the same noble line; and, on the father’s, from respectable, honourable, and ancient—though untitled—families. Their fortune on both sides is splendid. They are destined for each other by the voice of every member of their respective houses; and what is to divide them? The upstart pretensions of a young woman without family, connections, or fortune. It is this to be endured! But it must not, shall not be. If you were sensible of your own good, you would not wish to quit the sphere in which you have been brought up.”

Everything in the speech seemed like a personal attack. Hermione couldn’t help but find similarities with her current predicament with Draco. She spoke with a resolve as strong as if she were facing Narcissa or Lucius Malfoy, which she was sure to encounter in the future if she were to pursue a relationship with their son. She spoke with an overwhelming confidence in her growing affections and a belief in the power of love, “In marrying you nephew, I should not consider myself as quitting that sphere. He is a gentlemen; I am a gentlemen’s daughter; so far we are equal.”

“True. You _are_ a gentleman’s daughter. But who was your mother? Who are your uncles and aunts? Do not imagine me ignorant of their condition.”

“Whatever my connections may be if your nephew does not object to them, they can be nothing to _you._ ”

She impatiently stamped her foot on the ground and demanded, “Tell me once for all, are you engaged to him.”

Hermione’s mind knew that she wasn’t at the present time but expected to be in the future. She held her tongue and gave a simple answer, “I am not.”

A manic smile spread across her pointed features, “And will you promise me, never to enter into such an engagement?”

Hermione shook her head, “I will make no promise of the kind.”

“Miss Bennet I am shocked and astonished. I expected to find a more reasonable young woman. But do not deceive yourself into a belief that I will ever recede. I shall not go away till you have given me the assurance I require.”

Hermione let out a puff of frustration before standing up tall, “And I certainly _never_ shall give it. I am not to be intimidated into anything so wholly unreasonable. Your ladyship wants Mr. Darcy to marry your daughter; but would my giving you the wished-for promise make their marriage at all more probable? Supposing him to be attached to me, would my refusing to accept his hand make him wish to bestow it on his cousin? Allow me to say, Lady Catherine, that the arguments with which you have supported this extraordinary application have been as frivolous as the application was ill-judged. You have widely mistaken my character, if you think I can be worked on by such persuasions as these. How far your nephew might approve of your interference in his affairs, I cannot tell; but you have certainly no right to concern yourself in mine. I must beg, therefore, to be importuned no father on the subject.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at the continued banter between her and Bellatrix. She listened to her bringing up the Ron and Lavender fiasco, along with many other accusations against her family and why her connections would be detrimental to Draco.  She found her confrontation with the woman both boring and only responded as required until they reached the end. When the end of the conversation came she just walked away from the woman. Her wand in her hand the whole time, and she wasn’t expecting the woman to attempt to attack her when she turned her back. She felt the woman’s hand on her shoulder and she reacted quickly. With a few muttered spells the woman lay on the ground unconscious and in a full body bind. She smiled at herself and just left the woman to lie there for the time being. She smirked as she thought. _No one messes with this witch. I shall never feel insignificant by another’s hands again. I am a Mudblood and proud to be one!_


	14. Asking for her Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Series (1997-2007) and any characters and original locations within the books belong to JK Rowling. I own my original characters and my plot. I am not trying to pass any of these characters or copyrighted ideas off as my own and therefore it isn’t plagiarism or copyright infringement. Pride and Prejudice belongs to Jane Austen, I am only borrowing her world and some of her dialog.

George was sitting at the table at Shell Cottage with Bill and Fleur. He had explained everything he’d read about the curse, and Bill ran a finger along his chin, “So, let me get this straight. You sent out these joke books to everyone but me and Fleur? You didn’t send any warning with them, which said if they read it allowed it would suck them into the book. You have a copy of each book that records everything that happens while the person is in the book, and you read about some Malfoy curse while you were reading the book you trapped Hermione in. Also, since you didn’t put a warning on the book she’s trapped in a romance book with Draco Malfoy?”

George’s brown eyes widened, “Well, essentially yes. I didn’t send you your copy because I didn’t want to deal with your painful retribution. You’re a curse breaker Bill. Plus you were Head Boy at school and you’re not a pansy like Percy, so yeah I knew you’d get me back for it. Plus, you would’ve been stuck in Middle Earth for so long.”

His nonexistent eyebrows arose, “You made me one for all six books of the _Lord of the Rings_? That’s brilliant! I say give it to me for my birthday and I’ll take vacation from work so that Fleur and I can go through the books together. But enough of the great Joke Books you and Fred created, which by the way is a great idea. You should really market those, of course I’m sure you plan to, but decided to test them on your unknowing friends and family first.” He shook his head showing his disapproval, “As to the curse, I have to do a bit of research. I will try to find another way to break it, but I have a feeling that Hermione’s Ancestor was quite talented and the only way to break it might be for the two of them to be together. You’ve been reading his thoughts while he’s been in the book, right? He’s changed, hasn’t he?”

George nodded his head and cleared his throat, “But wasn’t Hermione supposed to be our sister-in-law?”

Bill chuckled, “Well, it would’ve been possible if things were different. If Fred hadn’t died, Ron wasn’t gay, or Charlie wasn’t busy with his dragons, however since it’s not that way we’ll have to settle with keeping her as a close family friend.”

“Wait, how long have you known Ron was gay? I just figured it out today!” He crossed his arms and glared. Fred chuckled in his mind. _You wouldn’t have figured it out if I hadn’t clued you in. You’re so oblivious sometimes, really!_

Bill closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, “That’s irrelevant. I need to research this curse, so you should probably go now.”

* * *

Draco was in London when his enraged aunt called upon him. He had stood before his aunt knowing that Hermione had confronted the Bellatrix doppelganger. He tried to contain his laughter as she went off about the many reasons why he and Eliza would be an unsuitable match. Including her delusional idea that he and his cousin who resembled the pug faced Pansy, were betrothed to marry as newborns still in their cots. I sounded like something his mother and Mrs. Parkinson would do. He didn’t concentrate on her concerns as much as the descriptions of Hermione’s reactions.  After she left, he did what was expected of his character and returned to Netherfield earlier than anticipated. He was soon once again standing before the humble home of Longbourn alongside Bingley. They decided to go for a walk, but Looney decided to stay home. Bingley and Jane went off by themselves leaving the two of them with one of the Patil twins. They walked toward the Lucas’s and soon the Patil twin disappeared to hang out with her sister who was masquerading as Maria Lucas.

After she left, Hermione took a deep breath before speaking. “Mr. Darcy, I am a very selfish creature; and, for the sake of giving relief to my own feeling, care not how much I may be wounding your’s. I can no longer help thanking you for your unexampled kindness to my poor sister. Ever since I have known it, I have been most anxious to acknowledge to you how gratefully I feel it. Were it known to the rest of my family, I should not have merely my own gratitude to express.”

Draco wanted to say so much but followed Hermione’s lead and continued with what he was supposed to say. “I am sorry, exceedingly sorry that you have ever been informed of what may, in a mistaken light, have given you uneasiness. I did not think Mrs. Gardiner was so little to be trusted.”

“You must no blame my mother. Lavender’s thoughtlessness first betrayed to me that you have been concerned in the matter; and, of course, I could not rest till I knew the particulars. Let me thank you again and again, in the name of all my family, for that generous compassion which induced you to take so much trouble, and bear so many mortifications, for the sake of discovering them.”

He noticed her slips in the scripting. She had referred to her aunt as her mother, which he assumed was who played her aunt. She then called Lydia Lavender, which made him wonder if they’d have an actual discussion and not just speak what was in the book. He inwardly grimaced, as she had no idea as to the true mortification he experienced upon seeing the awkward sexual act between Lavender and Ron. However, she still hadn’t completely broken character so he continued with the scripting, “If you _will_ thank me let it be for yourself alone. That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other inducements that led me on, I shall not attempt to deny. But your _family_ owes me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe I thought only of _you_.”

Hermione blushed as he continued, “You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me at so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever.”  He caught her eyes and grabbed that courage once more if but only for a brief moment, “I did not just speak as Mr. Darcy, but I also as Draco Malfoy when I spoke those words, so Hermione please let me down gently if you must.”

She smiled at him causing his breath to catch, “Draco, my feelings for you have gone through the greatest transition. One could liken it to the metamorphic stage of a caterpillar before it sprouts its wings to become a beautiful butterfly. I cannot tell you when they started to change, as they took me by surprise, however I knew they’d changed profusely before I visited you at Pemberley. If your offer still stands, and you’re willing to accept the consequences of your actions, I would be proud to be married to Mr. Darcy as Elizabeth Bennet. Maybe in a few years we could bask in the glow of this reality and marry each other in ours.”

His heart started beating quicker as his wishes fell from her lips in the form of words he dreamed she’d say. He cleared his throat and asked the one question that plagued his mind for far too long, “Why were you crying when you receive the notice that Lavender ran off with Ron? I thought it was because you were heartbroken that Ron’s likeness ran off with Lavender a second time.”

Hermione shook her head and giggled, “No, I’ve found myself thinking about what Ron would look like in a dress recently. The more I thought about my dear friend the more pieces fit together. I never had a chance with him. I think you would’ve had a much better chance than me. I’m pretty sure you have the equipment he prefers. It was speaking with his version of Wickham that gave it away, as I look back on it now. It was in the slightly graceful ways the character moved. I think it was the way my mind finally put it together and projected it on his character.   Yep, I’m afraid that Ron plays for the same team I do.”

Draco’s mouth dropped open. He never thought that he’d find out one of the Weasley sons were gay, but then again if Dumbledore was then there was a possibility that anyone could be, right? No one found out about Dumbledore’s sexuality until after he died and no one ever questioned his lifelong bachelorhood. He shook his head, “Ron’s gay?”

She nodded, “Yep, however I don’t believe he’s ready to tell anyone. I might just have to write him for confirmation. I’m sure Bill’s figured it out already; I mean he’s just as academic and observant as I am. Ron’s always been thick when it came to my feelings. For the longest time, I thought it was just because he didn’t realize how I felt about him, but now I realize it was because he never felt the same way that I did. I was the one that kissed him during the final battle and as I review it, there was something off about it.”

Draco decided it was best for him to change topics before he let Zabini’s sexuality out of the bag. Introducing the two might be the best way to get Blaise off of Theo’s back. Draco cleared his throat as he explained what happened when his aunt called on him. He finished with Darcy’s feelings as they mirrored his own, “It taught me to hope as I had scarcely ever allowed myself to hope before. I knew enough of your disposition to be certain that, had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided against me, you would have acknowledged it to Lady Catherine, frankly and openly. Even you would’ve changed the scripting Hermione, if you still felt the same way as you did when I shared my feelings with you months before.”

She smiled, “Yes, you’ve known my frankness and sharp wit for all of our years together at Hogwarts. However, there’s no point in continuing with the scripting. I know that I unjustly pulled out everything that you’ve regretted and thrust it down your throat. I brought up things that I told myself I’d forgiven you for and struck you deeper than necessary. I was overly harsh with my criticism, even though I was ignorant and misinformed about most of the things you went through.”

“I deserved those words Hermione. After torturing you and teasing you for years, I deserved to feel that pain. I was less than a man. I was young but that didn’t excuse my horrible behavior. I’ve thought you were pretty since I saw you at Yule Ball our fourth year. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. I promised myself that I wouldn’t direct my insults at you anymore after that. Then I showed my true cowardice as I just stood there frozen as my aunt, the real Bellatrix, carved that horrible word on your arm. I should’ve done something, but of course I felt as helpless as I did when I watched those gorillas harm my mother.” He couldn’t continue with his words as he choked up and tears were rapidly forming in his eyes. He tried to control his emotions as it wasn’t the time to flaunt his vulnerabilities.

* * *

The following day, he and Hermione went for another walk together alone. They discussed more things from their reality and he hoped to someday marry the woman before him. He knew the wedding of their characters would arrive shortly, however he wanted to marry her for real. He wanted to have a full blown wizard wedding with the blending of their magical energy. Upon their return to Longbourn, they had decided to follow the book to the tee. That evening he followed Mr. Weasley to the library to ask for his permission of their marriage.

He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to do it, as Austen never wrote what was said between Mr. Bennet and Mr. Darcy, as she’d jumped straight to the conversation between him and his favorite daughter. He paced back and forth and calmed his breath before deciding to go with the direct approach, “Mr. Bennet, I have interrupted your solitude to ask your permission. Your daughter Elizabeth and I would like to be married, but we cannot without your blessing.”

The balding red haired man paled and his mouth hung open. It took him a moment to recover before he cleared his throat, “You and Lizzy want to be married. I give you my consent, but I would like to speak with Lizzy before I give my blessing or congratulations. Could you send her in here to speak with me?”

Draco nodded and left the room. He made eye contact as he approached her and whichever Patil sister was sitting next to her. He walked over and pretended to admire her needlework, as he whispered, “Go to your father, he wants you in the library.”

He watched as she quickly left the room. He couldn’t help but wander around the room filled with nervousness. What if things didn’t work out? What if the darkness from his reality crept in and destroyed the glimmer of happiness he saw before him? What if the curse struck? He sighed before taking a seat and awaiting the long conversation between her and her father. He knew it would end with her telling the Weasley Patriarch everything that happened including Darcy’s hand in the cleaning up of Lydia’s foolishness.

Draco held in laughter as he heard Arthur belt out, “If any young men come for Mary or Kitty, send them in, for I am quite at leisure.”

* * *

The day of their wedding arrived but a couple of weeks after Bingley and Jane’s. Draco was excited to go through the wedding ceremony, which wasn’t written in the book but alluded to. He found himself dressed in white pants and button up shirt, however he had a gold double breasted jacket to wear over the white and a pink bow tie. He looked at himself in the mirror and couldn’t help but think he looked quite fetching; however, the white only accented his paleness more. He stood by the altar in the local church wondering who the clergyman would be presiding over the ceremony.

He watched as Looney sat at the organ and began to play a march. Soon he saw the bride’s maids and groomsmen walking down the aisle. He couldn’t help but think if the wedding should’ve been larger with the amount of wealth Darcy had, however Eliza probably had a hand in the wedding arrangements much like Hermione had in theirs. She wanted a simple wedding. She didn’t want something too over the top, but something that showcased their love in unexpected ways.

His eyes widened as the bride’s maids in their gold dresses moved to the side and he saw Hermione for the first time. She wore an empire dress that had more of a ballroom style skirt. She had lace in all the proper places and gold flecks danced in the light as she walked toward him. As she came closer, everything within him wished they weren’t living the lives of the two greatest romance characters of all time in the Muggle world, but actually getting married. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to exchange actual marriage vows with her and start the first day of the rest of their lives together. He knew that he’d fallen harder than any Malfoy before him, and a small part of him was terrified as to what it might mean.

The clergyman made his way toward them. His silvery blond hair was pulled back and his blue eyes somehow seemed familiar as he gazed upon them. He had rather noble and angular features. Draco thought for a moment it was his father, but the eyes were far too clear blue to be the eyes of Lucius. He knew there was something he was missing, but was too caught up in the moment to really care what it was. The man started with the traditional preachy stuff associated with a Christian wedding. Draco never really cared for the religion much, but he did love the holidays. With the amount of darkness the Malfoy’s participated in, it would’ve been far too much of a paradox if they attended church every Sunday.

Draco was too busy staring at how beautiful Hermione was that he didn’t notice time around him stopped, as the clergyman spoke. However, he did notice a peculiar look on Hermione’s face as she stared at the man in shock. He shrugged it off, as he figured she just mistook the man as his father, as well.  The man addressed him, “Now, Draco, if you would repeat after me. I, Draco Lucius Malfoy, promise to love, cherish, and protect Hermione Jean Granger for the rest of my life.”

Draco looked down and noticed that Hermione’s hand was in his as he repeated the traditional words to a wizard wedding. He figured he was just dreaming, as she’d never really marry him. The clergyman turned to his blushing bride, “Now, Hermione, please repeat after me-”

“I, Hermione Jean Granger, promise to love, cherish, and protect Draco Lucius Malfoy, for the rest of my life.” She smiled and winked at the clergyman, which caused a knot to form in the pit of his stomach.

The blue eyed man of the cloth continued to speak, “Love is strongest form of magic we know. Many of the darkest wizards were incapable of understanding the true power of love, which only proved to be Voldemort’s downfall. The perfect mate exists out there for each of us, however sometimes a person is too blinded by prejudice and easily persuaded by his or her family and friends to see the full potential of that mate. We are gathered here today to bond two souls who were separated by time. With this joining, this union, a dark curse which has plagued the Malfoys for generations shall be broken.” Draco shivered as the words fell from the man’s lips. He couldn’t fathom how such a wedding ceremony could take place in a muggle book. He was far too distracted and overwhelmed to catch the full impact of the man’s words. He was struggling and was too wishful to believe a bonding ceremony was taking place between him and Hermione. Would he really call her wife sooner than he first thought possible?

As his mind was clouded by a dense fog of his hopes for the future, the clergyman turned to Hermione once more, “Hermione Jean Granger, do you take Draco Lucius Malfoy, with all of his imperfections, his poor choices, and his unworthiness to be your husband?” Draco agreed with the words spoken and felt nervous as he wondered if she would accept him for who he was.

Hermione smiled at him and her eyes shone with something he couldn’t place as she spoke, “I do.”

The man then turned to Draco with a large smile on his face, “Do you Draco Lucius Malfoy, take Hermione Jean Granger, with her less than pure blood, her keen intellect, and her overall superiority to be your wife?”

Draco’s voice was thick with emotion many believed he was incapable of possessing, “I do and I am honored that she’s even willing to accept me.”

Draco’s shimmering eyes widened as the clergyman took out the Malfoy family wand, 18” elm with dragon heartstring, which was in his father’s possession until Voldemort took it and it was destroyed. The man started speaking in Latin too quickly for Draco to translate. He watched as a sliver liquid streamed from his hand and wrapped around his and Hermione’s intertwined ones. As the man continued to speak, a gold liquid arose from her’s and intermixed with the sliver rope like substance already wrapped around their hands. His hand tingled and unfamiliar warmth filled him as the man spoke his final words, “I, Brutus Julius Malfoy, grandfather of the cursed Marcus Domitius Malfoy, seal this marriage and hold the requirement of Helena Hermione Granger fulfilled. May our line be brightened and strengthened by the courage, kindness, and outstanding moral character Hermione Jean Granger possesses. As the eldest Malfoy present, I do my ancestral duty, and bless this bonding. Draco, you may kiss your bride.”

He shook his head and leaned in capturing Hermione’s lips. He knew in that blissful moment that it was all a dream. There was no way that he’d just married Hermione Granger. There was no way they’d escape from the book to find the Ministry Records updated with the information of their wedding. He wouldn’t see her face right next to his on the Malfoy Family Tapestry. It had to be a dream, but as he kissed her, it felt so real. When he opened his eyes and took a step back from her, he noticed that the man was no longer standing before them and everyone was cheering. Where had he gone? He grabbed a hold of Hermione and they made way to their awaiting carriage.

As they sat in the chase, which was on its way to Pemberley, he waited for the other shoe to drop. He waited for himself to awaken in his bed with the dread of knowing that the happiness before him could never be. His heart filled with worry as he realized when he woke up, it was just as likely he’d wake in his bed at the Manor that Voldemort still walked through it. He gasped for breath, as the memory of what that man did to his family overwhelmed him. He looked up as he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. He was captured by her golden flecked brown eyes and managed to choke out, “What?”

“Draco, are you upset with what happened at the church? Are you regretting that we got married and when we return to Hogwarts your parents will find out that you married a muggle-born?”

He shook his head, “No, I want this to be real, but I know it’s just a dream or a fantasy. You would never marry me, well I guess you would, but the real Hermione would never marry someone as worthless as me. Sure, I have plenty of materialistic wealth, but I’m a coward and nothing compared to her friends. I’m just dreading what world will await me when I awake. If I’m back at the manor with _him_ there, I don’t know if I could survive.” He covered his face with his hands to hide the traitorous tears threatening to fall. He continued a bit muffled, “I love you so much Hermione, I just can’t look upon that woman’s face, who tortured you again, as she fawns over her master.”

He didn’t fight her when she pulled his hands away from his face. He kept his eyes shut tight as she gently wiped away his tears, before pulling him into a passionate kiss. He felt desire light within him as he deepened the kiss. They battled for dominance within each other’s mouth. Her hands made their way to his hair and he sighed. He was experiencing the best dream ever; however, he wasn’t ready for the bleak reality that awaited him when he finally awoke.


	15. The Honeymoon’s End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Lemon present, you’ve been warned*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Series (1997-2007) and any characters and original locations within the books belong to JK Rowling. I own my original characters and my plot. I am not trying to pass any of these characters or copyrighted ideas off as my own and therefore it isn’t plagiarism or copyright infringement. Pride and Prejudice belongs to Jane Austen, I am only borrowing her world and some of her dialog.

Theo had expected to receive a letter regarding the events taking place within the book. What he hadn’t expected was for Lucius Malfoy to show up at Hogwarts and demand his presence at their home, as he and his wife had decided to cut their vacation short. Apparently, one word about the curse had the two Malfoy’s, who’d left England with their tails between their legs, to come back ready for a fight. He didn’t know what to expect when he was called to the Headmistress’ office, however it wasn’t what he found.

Lucius sat in a chair across from the stern faced McGonagall, his cane in hand, and he looked as intimidating as usual. Upon Theo’s arrival, he growled, “Why didn’t you notify the Headmistress of Draco and Hermione’s disappearance? I understand that they were sucked into a magical book, but do you realize how incompetent she looked when she had no knowledge of what happened? You’re Head Boy, are you not? Why didn’t you do your duty to the school and inform the head of the school that the Head Girl and my son went missing. Another thing, why didn’t you contact me, as soon as he disappeared? Instead of waiting until you read about an ancient Malfoy curse within the text!”

Theo’s dark eyes whipped around the room, “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. They’ve been in the book for three days, and their nearing the end of the story. However, I think there’s a reason to be a bit concerned. I think that your ancestor Brutus Julius Malfoy may have performed a bonding ceremony on the two within the book during the marriage scene. The curse may have been lifted, however I believe you may have a new muggle-born member of your family.”

His gray eyes popped open, “Draco and Hermione were married within the book? Brutus performed a binding ceremony? If it was a true binding then the Ministry would’ve been automatically notified of the marriage and the Malfoy tapestry-” he broke off before turning to McGonagall. “This is very important. I need you to contact George Weasley and have him meet me and Theo at Malfoy Manor. My wife is already there. Have him bring his brother, the curse breaker, the one that Greyback maimed, I think he’d be of some assistance as well. I’m not sure what’s going on here, but the Weasley boy has a lot of explaining to do.”

Theo was unable to speak a word before he was pulled through the green flames of the fireplace and soon in the now light and airy Parlor at Malfoy Manor. It was as if all traces of darkness had been removed from the structure. He reached into his robe pocket wondering what progressed in the story since he read it last. Lucius quickly left him alone in the Parlor with the book. His eyes were wide because he never expected the two to consummate their marriage so quickly. He knew at that moment there’d be no chance of an annulment. He only hoped they knew what they were getting themselves into.

* * *

Hermione felt elated as Draco carried her across the threshold into their home. She knew that Brutus had performed a standard but rather ancient bonding ceremony. She just couldn’t bring herself to ask if Draco understood the full impact of the magic performed hours before, which were probably only minutes within their reality. Before she could gain the courage to broach the subject, Draco leaned in and captured her lips in the most passionate kiss she’d ever received.  Her body filled with warmth and excitement. She couldn’t get enough of his kiss, and she soon wanted more. She needed more, which only made her wonder for a moment if a lust spell was interwoven into the Latin chanting the Malfoy ancestor had performed. She’d caught an odd word here and there but was too distracted during the event to fully translate what the wizard was saying.

With her mind in a whirl, she didn’t even notice their movement toward Draco’s chambers until she was placed upon a king sized bed. The sheets were green silk and so smooth. She pulled him down toward her for another heated kiss and her fingers ran through his silky hair. She felt his hands run down her arms and lift up the skirt of her dress to brush along her thighs. She could feel the slickness of arousal well before he even made it to her mound. She needed him more than she ever needed anyone else before. She broke off the kiss only to grab her wand, “We’re magical Draco. I need you now. I cannot wait while you slowly undress me, no matter how much you want to tease.”

He nodded and grabbed his wand. A few wand flicks and spells quickly removed all of their barriers. Hermione set her wand on the nightstand as she let her eyes sweep across her husbands naked form. She never would’ve realized that such a fine specimen existed underneath his school robes, or the layers of Regency era costume, she saw him wear recently. His chest and abs definitely benefited from his years as a Seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch Team. His carpet most definitely matched his drapes, and the little hair present on his sleek body was just as pale blonde as the mop atop his head. She smirked and pulled him down atop her. She was no virgin, but it had been a couple of years since her first and only interaction, which occurred with a muggle neighbor. He gasped as she ran her nails along his arms and back. His head dropped into her neck as he let out a contented sigh, “It’s been so long.”

She didn’t respond to his confession with words but pulled him into another lip lock. She battled his tongue for dominance and soon she’d managed to roll them over to where she was straddling him. He looked up at her with confusion filling his molten silver eyes. She’d never seen so much emotion in them before.  She broke eyes contact and started peppering his chest with kisses heading toward his southern saluting solder. He gasped when she licked around the head like it was a lollipop before taking the whole thing in. She sucked all the way back up and he moaned loudly. She continued with the pattern a few more times until he warned, “If you keep that up, I won’t last much longer.”

She smiled at him before straddling him once more, but scooping up his engorged member and aligning it with her aching hole. He slid so easily into her slick entrance enticing another loud groan. She stayed still for a moment wondering how far she could tease before she had him begging. She reached up and ran her fingers along each of his exposed nipples. As they turned into hardened mounds she gently squeezed them between her forefinger and thumb.

“You minx,” he grumbled before rolling them back over so he was on top. He pulled her legs up so her feet flanked each side of his neck and began to pound. It wasn’t overly forceful, but she was soon mewing and moaning with pleasure.

“Oh Draco, faster and harder, please. It feels so good,” She could barely keep her eyes open as she was overwhelmed with pleasure. A tingling sensation swept over her reminding her of the cold egg like sensation of a disillusionment charm, but it was different. Was this act causing some sort of magical bond to strengthen between them? Before she could think about the question a moment longer, bliss shook her body, and she was soon yelling, “Yes, yes, yes.” She collapsed to the bed and she felt him tense up and follow after her. He seemed to wait a few moments before pulling out and laying in his nude glory next to her. He pulled her into an affectionate hug. It was in that moment of the heavenly afterglow that realization struck her like a bolt of lightning, “Draco, we just consummated our bonding, strengthening the bond, and making it permanent.”

She felt him tense behind her and fear swept through her. She couldn’t help but wonder if he regretted it. Was he going to leave her now that he realized the full implications of their actions? He remained silent for a few more minutes, as his warm breath ghosted over her neck and her exposed back, “Were you hoping for a way out, Hermione?”

She shook her head no, “I was just afraid that you didn’t realize that we were actually bonded. I worried that you’d leave as soon as you realized that you’d married a Mudblood.” She gasped, “What will your parents think? Your father, I’m so dead.”

Draco chuckled from behind her, “He’s not as bad as you think. I think given the circumstances, he’ll understand.”

She rolled over and cuddled into his bare chest that just felt so inviting, “I hope you’re right.”

* * *

Hermione watched as they lived out the final events in the book. They stood one last time in by the large windows facing the immaculate grounds on a clear night. The full moon was reflecting off of the pond as they looked out together. Hermione stared up at her husband and was in awe as the moon highlighted his pale features. “Draco, we are coming to the end of the book. This love story is almost over and soon we shall return to our reality. Are you prepared to face your parents?”

He sucked in air and looked directly in her eyes, “I never thought that I’d never see you as anything more than an annoying know-it-all, however, in this beautifully isolated world I met the real Hermione Granger, and I fell in love. You forgave me for my past discretions, you challenge me both intellectually and emotionally, and you’re not interested in me because of my money or my family name.”

“I understand all that, but you can’t forget that I’ve helped break an ancient curse upon your family,” she smiled and poked his nose with her pointer finger. She sighed, “But you didn’t answer my question about your parents.”

He shook his head and ran a shaky hand through his hair, “I guess, I’m not too worried because they’ll still be out of the country. I don’t know when they’ll decide to return to the Manor and they’ll probably not find out about our binding until they return.  It’s not like anyone in our reality would know what happened in this book.”

She smiled and took his hands in hers, “When I read and reread this book in adolescence, I always hoped to one day find a love story just as strong. I guess part of me crushed on my unavailable friend for a while, and I never thought that my childhood bully could possibly be hiding the man for whom I craved. You, Draco Lucius Malfoy, are my Mr. Darcy and when I read this book again, it will only be your face that I see. Both of you are misunderstood, shy, and in your case forced into a lifestyle you never wanted.”

He smiled, and raised one of their intertwined hands to kiss the back of her hand, “And you are a pureblood princess born to muggles!”

Hermione was about to make a joke except that she felt the tug at her navel reminiscent of the activation of a portkey. She held onto his hands and closed her eyes to get her bearings.  When the dizziness cleared up, she slowly opened her eyes, and gasped. She was expecting to return to the Head Common Room that the two of them had left, however that wasn’t where they turned up.

* * *

Theo was alone in the Parlor for fifteen minutes before the fireplace lit green and people began to pile out. He had to hold back a chuckle, as it reminded him of one of those muggle clown cars he’d seen at a circus the previous summer. He’d spent plenty of time in the muggle world where people didn’t know who he was. He was tired of people judging him because his father was a Death Eater. He’d never followed in his footsteps, and he was never forced into service like Draco was.  He saw a sea of red heads coming out of the fireplace. Apparently the notification had spread past George and the curse breaker. He gasped for a moment when he recognized the piercing green eyes of Harry Potter. Ron Weasley was right next to him and they were both wearing their Auror Training Robes.

Harry’s voice rang out once everyone was there, “We know about the binding. We need to see the Malfoy tapestry, where is it?”

Theo shook his head, “I don’t know. Lucius just left me in here.”

As if by speaking his name alerted him, Lucius arrived in the room with Narcissa on his arm. He looked at the large crowed in his Parlor and cleared his throat, “I should’ve known calling two Weasley’s means the whole brood would come. If you must see the tapestry, please follow me. We keep it in our Library.”

Theo followed the rest of the group down the warm and light hallways. He noticed the different aura to the manor home, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it was similar to Pemberley in the novel. They reached the library in time to see a white glow and two people materialize before them. The two were standing with about a foot between them and both hands were being held up between them like they were sent from the book during an intimate moment. Theo was just happy it wasn’t too intimate of a moment. He just stared before Harry spoke behind him, “So, it’s true. Hermione, you and Malfoy were married?”

George held his hands up, “Look, I didn’t know that bonding magic could be performed within the Joke book reality. There’s a reason why I sent them out to a handful of people as a test. Did I mention that you were the last person to get sucked into the book? Everyone else fell for the trap first thing in the morning.”

Theo looked over at the Malfoy tapestry and noticed the line to the left of Draco’s image and Hermione’s image added with her name below it. Her name appeared as Hermione Jean Malfoy nee Granger.  However, what was even more shocking was the line going down from the line connecting them. He blinked a few times but the line didn’t go away, “Um hey, when you two consummated your bonding in the book. Did you think about using some form of contraception?”

Hermione’s face paled, “No, I didn’t think about at the time. However, I did think that maybe Brutus had included some sort of lust spell in with the bonding spells. There was just this strong pull.” She blushed and didn’t finish her line of thought aloud, but Theo remembered reading it.

He turned to the wolf scarred Weasley, “Is there a possibility that the only way that the curse could be broken was if a child was conceived between a Malfoy and a Granger?”

The long haired redhead with his dragon tooth earring nodded, “I think the type of curse placed on the Malfoys would require something like that. I’m just surprised that this tapestry has the ability to show pregnancy from time of conception. It’s a remarkable piece of magic and I’d guess that part of her curse was placed directly on it as well. If you notice, gold filigrees are beginning to appear that weren’t there moments before.”

Hermione loudly cleared her throat until everyone was silent and staring at her. She raised her hands, “Let me get this straight.” Her eyes narrowed in on George, “Not only was I trapped within a novel, where I was forced to see my dead friends and face my dead torturer Bellatrix Lestrange, but a marriage bonding and the conception of a child occurred within the book as well?”

George had the decency to pale, “Well, other magic was involved. How were we supposed to know that Malfoy’s ancestor would haunt the book and make sure an ancient curse on his family line was broken? Apparently the Pride and Prejudice book will not continue forward in the manufacturing process.”

Her eyes narrowed into slits, “Or you could just add some extra wards to the blimey book. Are you as daft as Ronald? I’m sure Bill could help you with a built in contraceptive charm and warding against bonding marriages from being performed.  Oh and Ron, I think it’s about time you let everyone know about your relationship preferences.” She smiled at him and Theo notice him pale. “I mean it’s statistically probable that one in four males born in the same household will seek more alternative lifestyles. Of course that’s muggle facts, I’m not sure how that differs for Wizarding standards. None of us will love you any less.”

Ron’s blue eyes widened and he sputtered, “How’d you know?”

George and Bill spoke in unison, which was a bit interesting, “She’s the brightest Witch of her age.”

Bill continued, “But it doesn’t take the brightest witch to figure it out. I’ve known for years.”

George popped off after that, “I just recently realized it, but hey, it only means that you prefer bangers over mash. So what if Hermione here isn’t your type. I’m sure you’ll find love someday.”

Ron’s whole face reddened as he muttered, “I think I already have.”

Lucius cleared his throat this time, “I understand everyone’s interest in his romantic life; however I think we need to get back to my son, new daughter-in-law, and future grandchild. I understand the bonding has already been performed; however it wouldn’t do for society to not have a large event to mark the joining of the two love birds.  We will need time to plan the wedding and the two are still in school. Then there’s also the image concerns of Hermione already being pregnant.”

Narcissa squeezed his shoulder, which seemed to silence him, “Honey, it is her first pregnancy. She just conceived and she likely will not show for at least another six months. We could always select an Empire style dress which would hide any bump if one is showing. We can then plan for a summer wedding date after they’ve taken their N.E.W.T.s.” She walked past the crowd and embraced Hermione, “I’m so happy to finally have a daughter, and I’m so excited to help you plan for the wedding.”

Theo watched as Hermione seemed a bit uncomfortable. She looked around the room and bashfully admitted, “We already had a very wonderful wedding ceremony. It was perfect in every way possible and I really think the ceremony you want to have is more for everyone else. I’d love it, if you Narcissa, would work with Molly to plan the wedding. The only other thing that I’d really like for the wedding would be for my parents to be located in Australia and their memories returned before the ceremony. I really want my father there to give me away, and I’d love if my mother could help you with the plans as well.”

Lucius surprised even Theo when he spoke, “Consider it done, Miss Granger. We would be happy to higher an investigator to locate your parents. I’m sure that Narcissa and Molly can start planning the wedding ceremony. Now, I want you to take care of yourself as you are now carrying the next Malfoy heir. After everything this family has been through, it’s time that we experience the happiness of little feet on this manor’s floor once more.”

Hermione smiled, “I only have one major request. I understand the manor has gone through a transformation after the curse was lifted, however I really would love that the post war redecorating start in the Parlor. I would rather not have flashbacks when I enter that room.”

Narcissa pulled her back into a hug, “I’m so sorry for what my sister put you through. Of course, we shall redecorate that room right away.” She gave her son a knowing look, “We’ll redecorate it with the Drawing Room and Ballroom.”


	16. N.E.W.T. Interference

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Series (1997-2007) and any characters and original locations within the books belong to JK Rowling. I own my original characters and my plot. I am not trying to pass any of these characters or copyrighted ideas off as my own and therefore it isn’t plagiarism or copyright infringement. Pride and Prejudice belongs to Jane Austen, I am only borrowing her world and some of her dialog.

Draco paced back and forth in the library. Everyone decided to stay at the manor until the winter holiday was over. He stared at the Malfoy Family Tapestry in disbelief. Her face was plastered next to his with the golden vertical line connected to the line linking them through their bonding. He knew that his parents had a bonded marriage and many pureblood families were known to practice such a tradition. However, he never planned on having a bonding with his wife. He never wanted to put his future wife through the emotional, magical, and mental link associated with a marriage bond. He growled as he realized his decision was taken away from him again. He was sick of not being given a choice. It wasn’t that he was mad at actually marrying Hermione, and that he was going to be a father, he just wished it was on his terms and not his ancestor Brutus’s.

He walked over to one of the book shelves and read the titles as he tried to clear his mind from the worries filling it. He rubbed his temple as he stopped walking along the book shelf gazing at the titles. When he looked up, one particular title called to him: _The eternal bond_. He reached for the book and walked toward one of the overstuffed leather chairs next to the fire. He took a seat and started reading, which finally quashed his inadequacies about not doing anything to help their situation. Maybe the information in the book would help both him and Hermione acclimate to the connection forming between the two of them. A connection he never wanted to put his wife through. His mother was distraught when his father was in Azkaban because she could feel every one of his emotions even that far away. She could see the thoughts running through his mind, when he was filled with the despair the Dementors used to bring to the Wizard’s Prison.

* * *

Hermione sat in the guest room she was sharing with Ginny. She tried to wrap her head around the information that she was going to be a mum. She’d yet to retrieve her parents from Australia, and when she did retrieve them, they wouldn’t have any time to prepare for the news. Plus they wanted her to wait until she had an established career before settling down and having a family. They would think she was too young to be a parent. If her math was correct the baby would be coming sometime around her 20th birthday. Her hand rested on her flat belly as her mind whirled with the changes the little surprise would bring. Her life plan didn’t have her getting pregnant until she was 25, but apparently fate had other plans. She stared at the magical flames crackling in the fire place, as she continued to mull over her situation.

She was brought out of her deep thoughts when Ginny’s voice interrupted, “Hey, Hermione. Are you just going to sit there all day?”

The bookworm shook her head trying to clear her mind, “No, I should probably get up. It’s a bit of a shock though. We’re so young, and I’m just not sure if we’re ready for the responsibility of parenthood. With everything that he’s been through, I’m just not sure if he’ll be a good father.”

The youngest Weasley raised an eyebrow, “Now, you’re just being silly. I’m not sure you’ve seen it, but his parents love him greatly. He may’ve been taught to be cold and aloof in public, but they all love each other. I’m sure he’ll be a great father, as I’m sure that he’s worried about whether or not he’s deserving of love or a family. I’m pretty sure he’s been hard on himself after the war.”

Hermione stood up and crossed her arms, “I guess you’re right. I really should stop assuming things about him, but I just can’t help worrying. I want my parents found, and I want them to remember me, but I’m afraid about how they’ll react.  Then we still have to study for our N.E.W.T.s, and I’m worried about being able to pass my practical portion of the test when I’m about six months pregnant. I’ve read in some of the magical encyclopedias, when I was doing a bit of light reading, that pregnancy can influence a witch’s magic.”

The ginger haired girlfriend of Harry Potter stared down at her shoes, as she moved her weight from one foot to the other, “Well, pregnancy isn’t the only thing that can affect a witch’s magic. The marriage bond creates a magical bond between the husband and wife. That bond allows one to transfer emotions and thoughts across the connection. It has also been known to influence one’s magic.”

“What!” She wasn’t aware of the volume of her voice as she stormed out of the room and straight into the library. She hadn’t read up on Wizarding marriage traditions, as she figured that she’d just have a Muggle Marriage when she married the right wizard. She never even considered that magical Wizarding traditions existed. Then again it was something that wasn’t readily shared by the pureblood families who usually partook in such traditions. Her mind continued to turn with the effects the bonding having on her practical exam. She growled, “If this connection between me and Malfoy affects my N.E.W.T. results, so help me, I’ll hex him!”

She reached the large wooden double doors that belonged to the ornate ancient library. She stormed into the room to find Draco asleep in one of the chairs by the fire with a book on his chest. She cleared her throat, which caused him to startle and moan, “What? Where am I?”

Ginny chuckled, “You fell asleep in your family’s library, while reading a book. I didn’t realize you sought answers in the library as much as Hermione. Perhaps you two are perfect for one another.”

He blinked his eyes a few times, as if he was trying to clear his vision, “Why does my new wife look like she’s about to explode?”

That was it! She let out a loud scream before her voice took on a higher pitch irate tone, “Why didn’t you tell me that this bond could affect my magic? Why didn’t you advise me of the fact that I may have to start practicing my spells more to adjust any changes? Do you want me to get all Trolls on my N.E.W.T.s, so that I can be a stay at home mom with your little brat?” Her face felt warm, and she could only imagine that it was as red as a tomato. However, the thought was fleeting, as her anger over road any logic she possessed.

His eyes widened in fear, “I wasn’t aware of the full implications of the bonding. I knew that our magic was linked together, however I never considered it affecting your exam, or rather, our exams. I started reading this book on Bonding Rites, and I got halfway through before I fell asleep. I’m sorry, but I didn’t get enough sleep last night. My mind just wouldn’t shut down last night. I hate taking sleeping draughts because I feel groggy and can’t think the next day.”

She tapped her foot and held out her hand, “Let me see that book!”

He handed over the book before quickly leaving the room. She stared at his retreating back before she sat down in the chair he just vacated. Ginny sat in the chair next to her and remained quiet for a bit while Hermione read.

* * *

Draco left the library as quickly as possible. He didn’t know what it was about Hermione, but she was scary when she was angry. He didn’t want to stick around and be on the receiving end of her enraged wand. He could tell that she was either ready to spit fire or start practicing hexes. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, as he walked toward the kitchen where he knew Molly would be cooking with the help of the house elves. He hoped that his mother would be in there with her and possibly even Andromeda, as it was the night that she visited the Burrow for family dinner with the almost one year old Teddy.

He started to wonder if the bonding would affect their magic ability to the point where it would impact their practical portion of their N.E.W.T.s. Another thought struck him as he reached the plain looking door to the kitchen, how much effect will the pregnancy have? The door swung open as he approached it and he sighed with relief when all three women stood in the Kitchen. He cleared his throat, “Can I speak with you three?”

Narcissa’s pale eyebrow raised and concern shone in her blue eyes, “What’s the matter baby?”

He couldn’t stop himself from pacing back and forth, “Hermione.” He stopped and tried again as the words caught in his throat. He managed to strangle out, “How much will the bonding and the pregnancy affect her magic and ability during the practical portion of the N.E.W.T.s?”

The three women looked at him with concern before looking at each other, as if they were trying to determine who should answer his question. However, before anyone answered his question all three elder witches burst into fits of giggles. Draco crossed his arms and furrowed his brow, “I don’t understand why you think it’s funny. It’s Granger! She’ll kill me if this affects her scores in anyway.”

Narcissa stopped laughing, but her eyes were still filled with mirth, “It’s good to see that you fear her. You’ll do well as a husband if you know when to be afraid.” She patted him on the shoulder in an attempt to comfort him before turning to the Weasley Matriarch, “Molly, are you and Arthur bonded?”

The curly haired ginger nodded, “We participated in the Prewitt family ceremony.”

Narcissa turned toward her sister and smiled, “Dromeda, I know that you and Ted weren’t, as our parents disowned you and well Ted was a muggle so he wouldn’t have had a ceremony to substitute it with like Molly had.” She walked away from Draco to link arms with the house wife, “I think with the amount of pregnancies you’ve had and your experience with a bonded marriage, you’d be best to answer Draco’s question.”

She nodded as her blue eyes focused on him, “At the beginning of each of my pregnancies, my magic would go haywire, but after I continued to use it, I acclimated. I grew used to the changes and I didn’t have to worry about readjusting to magical differences until after the baby was born. However, it took me a few months to adjust to the differences in my magic after the bonding. I think this happened because of the differences in Arthur and my magical auras. You and Hermione may experience something completely different. Would you like me to speak with her?”

Draco felt the blood leave his face at her last statement. He was dead if it would take Hermione months to adjust to their magical bond. He felt himself shutter, as he nodded a yes to her question. He didn’t trust himself to speak. He turned around and left the kitchen. He retreated to his bedroom, as he knew that his wife wouldn’t want to be in the same room with him for a while. What had he gotten himself into? He cared for her and he was ecstatic about being a father because after the war he was sure that no woman would care for him. Plenty were interested in his title, money, and handsome features, but they weren’t interested in him as a person. He ran both his hands through his hair before giving it a tug in frustration. They’d been married for a total of one day in their reality, and he’d already messed it up.

* * *

Hermione was almost done reading the book when Ginny cleared her throat, “Don’t you think you were a little inconsiderate?”

She looked up from the book, which had given her a bit of hope. If she could figure out how to get a handle on the bond and use it to her benefit, then it wouldn’t affect her casting. She sighed, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Ginny’s eyes widened, “You don’t know what I’m talking about? You unleashed all of your anger at Malfoy.  You yelled at him, blamed him for something he didn’t have control over, and threatened to hex him within an inch of his life. You may not have seen it, but you scared him. He left the room terrified of his new wife. Do you not see anything wrong with that?”

Hermione gasped, “I was just so angry that I didn’t even think about how my words affected him. Oh bugger! What am I going to do now? I can’t alienate my new husband and the father of my unborn child. I just am so stressed and worried about everything associated with this situation. I lashed out because my life is spinning out of control. Everything has changed so fast.”

She patted the pregnant witch’s shoulder, “You still have time. You have months before the wedding and a few more before the baby arrives. You’ll have plenty of time to adjust to the idea. Perhaps we should change the topic. Guess who Ron’s dating!”

The curly haired brunette shook her head and giggled, “I’m not even going to ask how you found this information out. Who?”

“You’d never guess, so I’ll just tell you. So, you know how a certain Slytherin was a member of the Slug Club your sixth year and my fifth?”

Her brown eyes narrowed, “There was more than one Slytherin a part of that group but only one was male. Please don’t tell me your brother is dating the black widow’s son.” Ginny nodded causing the head girl to gasp, “Wait, Ron’s dating Zabini? I didn’t even know the Italian was gay.”

Her red headed friend chuckled, “Many of us weren’t aware of Ron being gay and we’re his family, so it’s understandable that you couldn’t tell that Zabini was when you two were barley even acquaintances. Draco’s known him for years, so if anyone knew about his preferences, it’d be him.”

“Wow, so that’s two Gryffindor/Slytherin relationships. What’s next Theo and Fay will announce that they’ve been secretly dating for years?” She joked and Ginny’s eyes widened, which caused Hermione to groan, “Wait, don’t tell me. Those two have been secretly dating for years?”

Ginny covered her mouth and chuckled, “No, well at least I don’t think so. I was just thinking that if we introduced the two, who knows what would happen. I really think the school could use another Slytherin/Gryffindor couple. Especially, since I don’t believe that Ron’s about ready to go public with his relationship. The two met in Auror Training, but I don’t even know how they started dating or spilled to the other that they preferred men.”

* * *

Draco plopped down on his bed and fell into a fitful sleep. He was tossing and turning as his mind filled with the haunting images of his past. He saw the horrors present during the Death Eater gatherings, the former muggle studies teacher tortured, killed, and eaten. Hermione wreathing on the floor in pain as his crazy aunt carved the word Mudblood into her arm. Him standing over each nameless death eater using the torture curse, as Voldemort stood over him giving him instruction. He jolted awake and gave out a scream when he felt the man’s cold hand on his shoulder. His mind continued to flash images in his mind as he regained cognitive functioning. His mind played a memory that couldn’t have been his. He was in a room with Harry Potter and the snake was coming at them as they quickly apparated from the window. Harry’s wand was broken because the curse rebounded. Draco pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes as he tried to get rid of the memory that wasn’t his. He shook his head and moved his hands up and through his hair.

He wanted to scream, but just sat there quivering like a frightened child. He wanted to look up at his ceiling and ask, whatever higher power responsible for creating Wizards, why he was still suffering, but before he could make the outcry a familiar voice interrupted his internal rant. “Draco, I see that you still have nightmares.”

He turned his head in the direction of the voice and saw his tanned Italian friend sitting in one of the chairs near the fire. “What are you doing here, Zabini?”

He rolled his brown eyes, “I haven’t seen you in months and you decided to get married without telling me. Then I come to visit you, and you treat me like I’m some intruder, I’m hurt.”

The blonde smiled and laughed forgetting about his torturous thoughts moments before, “It’s good to see you Blaise. The wedding was a bit of a shocker, but I love her. I’m pretty sure that she feels the same way, but I could be wrong. She threatened my life if our marriage affected her ability to perform magic, because Merlin forbid if she got anything less than an Outstanding in every subject.”

The shaved head, coffee colored, man rubbed his chin. “So, I’m guessing there’s been a bit of trouble in paradise then.”

A maelstrom started in the heir’s gray eyes and his voice went cold, “You didn’t tell me what you’re doing here.”

The Italian raised an eyebrow, “I arrived with Ron as his date for the New Year’s Eve ball your mother puts on every year. “

“But that’s still not for a couple of days.”

The charismatic man smiled, “Yes, well I’ve got to give my man some loving until then. Since the Weasley’s are staying here, I’m going to stand by my man. He’s finally out to his family, so I’m taking advantage of the situation. I’ve been begging him to introduce me to his family for months now, but it wasn’t until he realized his family knew about his preferences that he even considered having me around them. He may be a Gryffindor, but sometimes he’s quite cowardly. I guess that’d make him the cowardly lion.”

Draco just shook his head, “So, you’re telling me that you and the Weasel King have been dating for a few months now, and I’m just finding this out. Is he treating you well? I mean he was quite thick at Hogwarts when it came to girls feelings but then again-”

“It could’ve had something to do with the fact that he wasn’t attracted to them. He didn’t pick up on the signals because he wasn’t looking for them. So, is it true that you managed shag Granger and she’s pregnant with your child?”

The blonde’s head dropped into his hands, “Yes, but bloody hell, I’ve messed up. Fucking bugger of a sodding prat!”

His friend’s eyebrow arose, “There’s no need for the repetitive curses. How did you mess it up?”

“I don’t know how I’ve messed it up, but she’s mad at me. She’s mad that because my ancestor performed a bonding ceremony on the two of us while we were trapped in that book and that we conceived a child to break an ancient curse on my family, and now her practice portion of her exams may be affected. She blames me, and I don’t know what I can do to make it right. I know this bond will affect my magic as well, and all we have to do is work together to fix it. At the same time, I’m just so afraid of losing her. I don’t know why it happened so quickly, perhaps it was because over a year passed in that novel when only a few days passed in our reality, but I love her. I love her more than life itself, and it scares the shite out of me! What am I going to do?”

Blaise held up his hands, “There’s nothing I can do. I have no reason to deal with hormonal woman, I’m gay remember?”

Draco shook his head and chuckled, “Yes I remember. Of course, having a mother like yours would make any straight man go gay.”

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah whatever.”


	17. Returning to Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *** Warning: Lemons aren’t only present in Lemonade***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Series (1997-2007) and any characters and original locations within the books belong to JK Rowling. I own my original characters and my plot. I am not trying to pass any of these characters or copyrighted ideas off as my own and therefore it isn’t plagiarism or copyright infringement. Pride and Prejudice belongs to Jane Austen, I am only borrowing her world and some of her dialog.

Hermione sat in the Head Common Room with Theo sitting across from her in one of the wingback chairs. He pursed his lips, as if he were contemplating discussing something with her, but didn’t seem to know how to start. She watched as he furrowed his brow, “When are you going to stop giving Draco the silent treatment?”

She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, “When he no longer deserves it!” She turned away as she thought about what she’d read at the end of that book in the Malfoy Library. She wanted to throw the book against a wall when she read the passage that damned her to his presence if she wished to adjust quicker. If she wanted the scores she deserved, she’d have to let him share a bed with her. She’d have to accept their bond, their future, and her pregnancy. However much she sought books for answers, she was still a Gryffindor and stubborn as hell. She huffed, “How about I have George send you one of those Joke books and you can star in a romance with the Gryffindor Fay Dunbar. Then you still wouldn’t understand what we went through unless you throw in a curse, a bonding marriage, and conception.”

Theo looked up at the ceiling, as if he were afraid to make eye contact with whatever he was going to say next, “I don’t think I understand. How is any of it Draco’s fault?”

She glared at him, “I don’t care if it’s his fault. I’m not happy with what has happened, and I’m not going to spoil the git. He’s had a cushy life and doesn’t know how much I’ve had to work to be where I’m at now. He’s had everything handed to him on a silver platter because he’s a Malfoy. I don’t want things given to me, and now that I’ve married into that family, I cannot help but wonder if I will stop achieving things based on my own merit. I can’t let that happen. I don’t want to have people judge me based upon my name before they even get to know me. It’s bad enough that I’ve been judged by my blood status for so long.”

His dark eyes locked with hers, “I read the book, you know. I know how skewed your beliefs are. You don’t know him and you fear the good side he showed you in the book doesn’t actually exist. You fear that he only acted that way to survive and get out of the book. I can tell you something, you’re wrong. Sure Draco grew up wanting for nothing except for true friendship, as most people cared more about his family linage, wealth, or prestige than who he was as a person. What about the number of girls who’ve tried to get him to date them because they want to be the next Mrs. Malfoy. The Slytherin house is full of Pureblood gold diggers. He’s grown up with manipulation, but he hates it. He earned a spot on the Slytherin Quidditch Team by his own merit, but then even it was taken away because his father bought those brooms, and you accused him of buying his way onto it. He was constantly under pressure from his father to do well, to beat you in school, and to beat Harry Potter on the Quidditch Pitch. Sure he was able to beat you in Potions, but none of the other classes, and he never managed to beat Harry in Seeker skill. Then his father failed the Dark Lord at the Ministry of Magic to a bunch of underaged witches and wizards his age. The Malfoy name was run through the dirt, his family was ripped apart, and not to mention, he and his mother were placed in danger. He was forced to perform a task he never wanted because if he failed, not only would it cost him his life, but the Dark Lord would wipe out his entire family.”

Hermione felt guilt wash over her. Had she really given him a chance to tell her these things? No, but it didn’t stop him from watching her, as she was tortured by his aunt less than a year prior, “Yeah, sure that’s great. I’ve seen plenty of things myself. I’ve been under the pressure of get things right or my friends and I would’ve lost our lives. I sent my parents away to protect them, and I have yet to find them. We have yet to locate to where they moved. I’m married and pregnant with my first child, and I have no one. Sure I have Draco, but he’s just a coward, isn’t he? He just stood there and watched as Bellatrix tortured me last spring. He did nothing to stop it. It wouldn’t surprise me if he enjoyed watching the Mudblood wreathing in pain because she’d finally know her place.”

Theo sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, “Why are you making it harder on the both of you by fighting the bonding? You do realize that if the two of you spent more time together getting to know each other would allow the bond to form more quickly. It would allow your magic to stabilize in plenty of time before the practical exams. Why do you continue to fight it? You two have been back for two weeks now. He’s been miserable and you’ve been a blasted harpy.”

Hermione growled, “Did you just call me a harpy?” She took a few calming breaths before she let her head fall in defeat, “What do you suggest I do about it?”

He tented his fingers and placed the tips on his lips in a thinking position, “Have you spoke with McGonagall about your situation?”

Hermione rubbed his temples, “No, but perhaps it’s time to spill the beans to the Headmistress.”

* * *

She sat in the chair across from the dignified looking former Transfiguration Professor. Her half-moon spectacles were reminiscent of the great wizard who hung in the large portrait behind her desk. She looked stern, “What brings you to my office, Ms. Granger?”

Hermione looked down at the desk feeling more ashamed than she ever had in the presence of her former head of house. She moved her finger along the fine carvings on the desk top, “Well, you see something happened over Winter Break. It involved a new product from Weasley Wizards and Wheezes, Draco Malfoy, an ancient curse, a bonding ceremony, and the conception of a child.”

The older woman gasped, “So, you’re saying that I should call you Mrs. Malfoy?”

Hermione chuckled, “I think I prefer Hermione, professor.”

The cat Animagus stared down her glasses in a very feline manner, “So, I’m guessing that he needs to move into the Head’s dorms with you, so that you guys can find equilibrium with your bonding and excel at your N.E.W.T.s. I’m also guessing that you don’t want the rest of the school to know about this until the Malfoys make the announcement of your engagement. Perhaps I should tell you that I’ve already spoken with Molly and was just waiting for you to approach me before we moved him in there. Are you okay with sharing a room with your new husband?”

The newly pregnant bookworm shook her head, “I don’t know what it is with the Headmaster and Headmistress positions at Hogwarts, but it seems to turn the witch or wizard omnipresent. I can’t help but wonder if you’re given a special book that tells you about everything going on in the building. Are you sure that parents won’t be angry with the school about this new development?”

The usually stern woman shook her head and smiled, “They won’t find out until after the two of you graduate. Also, I’m guessing it didn’t happen at the school and plus an ancient curse was involved, was it not? I doubt anything could’ve been done to prevent the pregnancy. I suggest you take the Head Boy with you when you go to retrieve Mr. Malfoy from the Slytherin dorms.”

“Professor, do you think that I’ll be able to do this? Do you think this pregnancy will affect my magic too much for me to continue to excel in school?”

The older woman crossed her fingers and set them atop her desk and compassion sparkled in her blue eyes, “I think that sometimes you worry too much. I know you think you know Draco and his full capacity, however I fear that you may not know him as well as you suspect. He’s been through just as much as you have. The difference in the way he acted when you were younger was because of the way he was raised. He was fed those foul beliefs since birth, and look what happened, he had to fall in love with, marry, and have a child with a muggleborn to break a curse placed on him by one of your ancestors. This just proves that even muggleborns have ancestry in the Wizarding World.”

“Well, I’ve always suspected that, Professor.”

* * *

The two weeks that passed after returning to Hogwarts were complete torture for Draco. He had to return to his Slytherin dorm room, which he only shared with Greg since Vince was dead, Blaise decided to take his N.E.W.T.s the summer before and not return to school, and Theo was made Head Boy. Greg had been quiet and distant from Draco since their return, and it made it feel more like he wasn’t sharing a room with anyone, except on the rare occasion when Greg would wake him up from one of his horrible night terrors. The nightmares turned into terrors upon their return from winter break and Hermione’s reluctance to accept their bond, leaving him to wonder if the two were related. Was the Malfoy curse rearing its ugly head because she didn’t really love him? He’d managed to attend classes with the use of glamour charms to hide his bags and plenty of stimulant potions, which he took to brewing in his dorm room along with dreamless sleeping draughts. He preferred not to take them because they always made him feel groggy in the morning, so he only used them on the nights he didn’t have school.

That Saturday morning, he’d been hit with the night terror during that small window when the dreamless portion of the potion wore off but the sleeping effects were still present. He was trapped in the nightmare until the effects fully wore off and it was a dream he wanted nothing more than to escape from. He was back in the drawing room in the dark with Voldemort standing next to him egging him on. He knew it was a memory of an event that occurred shortly after his seventeenth birthday, however instead of the blonde Death Eater Rowle writhing in pain under his Cruciatus Curse, it was Hermione. She was pleading for him to stop, letting out blood curdling screams as he casted it on her again and again, and he stood there and watched as she broke. He consciously knew that his dream had to be an overlapping of his memory of torturing Rowle and watching Hermione being tortured by Bellatrix almost a year later. However, it wasn’t the same Hermione from nine months earlier. She was pregnant, and he was torturing her. She was writhing in pain on their purple Drawing Room floor.

He was screaming to stop but nothing would come out of his mouth. It was as if he no longer had control over his body. He couldn’t stop hurting her. He hit her with curse after curse until she fell unconscious much like she had under Bellatrix’s wand. His heart pounded and he felt nauseous as he noticed blood quickly staining the legs of her trousers. He’d tortured her until she lost the baby and at that moment he noticed her baby bump. She was further along than she was currently. The blood was too much for him and the tears streamed down his cheeks and he continued to open mouth scream with no sound coming out. He must’ve been under the silencing charm. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t comfort her, and soon he watched as she slowly bled to death. He was stuck there watching as the Dark Lord continued to hiss his pleasure of Draco’s loyalty.

When he finally came out of the dream, he saw the concern in the dark eyes of his roommate, who was shaking him. Draco quickly turned away from Greg and curled into a ball on his side. He didn’t want to say anything to the other, as the tears rolled down his cheeks. He was a horrible person. What man dreamt of torturing his pregnant wife to death? What father would do that to his unborn child? He knew in that moment that it was for the best that Hermione shunned him. She needed to get away from him and protect their child. He was damaged beyond compare and was harmful to both her and their child. He continued to shake until the bile rose in this throat and he managed to lean over the bed and empty his meager stomach contents. He closed his eyes tight and wished to just disappear. He tried to will away his conscious thoughts, hide behind his mental walls, and seek solitude somewhere deep within his own mind. He was so far away; he didn’t hear Greg whisper the cleaning spell or the door shut behind him as he left Draco alone.

* * *

Hermione accompanied Theo to the Slytherin Common room. She couldn’t help but notice the icy stares coming from all of the females in the room. They seemed to look between her and Theo and somehow draw the conclusion that the two were together. She followed behind Theo, as she didn’t feel comfortable that deep into snake territory. Theo approached the sullen Goyle and cleared his throat, “Greg, I was wondering if you’d accompany us to your dorm room.”

Greg looked from Theo to Hermione and just nodded as he got up and walked down the stairs to the boys dorms. Hermione continued to follow as she mentally prepared herself for what she needed to say to her husband and the father of her unborn child. The closer they reached him, the further her stomach dropped, and dread filled her. She knew something was wrong, she could feel it from the weakened bond the two of them had.

Greg stopped outside of the door and looked at the two of them, “I don’t know what’s going on, but I expect an explanation when we get in there. I know something’s going on with Draco, but he won’t talk to me. He hasn’t spoken to anyone since he got back from Winter Break. He just goes to class, meals, and spends the rest of his time here in the dorm room.”

Theo nodded, “We’ll tell you everything after we get into the room.”

The other wizard nodded his curly brown covered head and opened the door. Theo followed him into the room and Hermione took up the tail end of the train. She looked around the room and took in the four beds, two were apparently unused. One had its green curtains closed and the other had a curled up body in it. Hermione slowly approached the body knowing it was Draco. She let out a gasp when she noticed his uncontrolled shutters and the tear marks down his cheeks. He seemed paler than usual and sweat beads were forming on his forehead. She reached out to touch his forehead wondering if he was sick with a fever. He jumped at her touch and looked up at her. His grey eyes widened in shock and he started mumbling incoherently. She sat down on the bed next to him and wasn’t aware of the whispering going on between Theo and Greg behind her.

 She reached out to pull Draco into a hug, but he recoiled and pleaded, “Stay away from me, please! I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt our child. If you get too close to me, I will, I know I will. I don’t want to, but I can’t control it. I’m no better than Voldemort. I’ve tortured people, and I don’t want to murder you and our child. You’re better far away from me. Please Hermione, please just leave me alone.”

Hermione’s heartbeat pounded furiously against her chest as she called out, “What’s happening to him Theo? Why does he think that he’ll hurt me? I don’t want to see him like this. What can I do?”

Theo was quickly at the side of the bed, “While we were at Malfoy Manor, I researched their bonding ceremony. They probably don’t want anyone to know this, but they have a very distant ancestor who was Veela. Their ancient bonding ceremony, which hadn’t been used since shortly after Marcus’s time because a newer ceremony was taken from one of the bride’s families, was that of Veela tradition. It seems to have a similar effect on the Malfoy descendent, as it would have on a rejected Veela.  However since he doesn’t have a high concentration of Veela blood, it’s not as bad.”

Hermione gasped, “This is my fault?”

Draco moaned loudly in the bed before demanding, “Stay away from me Hermione. I’m not meant to be a husband and a father. I’ve been tainted by Voldemort and I’ll only end up hurting you. You’ll be tortured by me like I did to Rowle. You’ll be cold and lifeless and we’ll lose our child. I don’t want to hurt you Hermione, please just stay away from me.”

Her eyes widened before she turned to Greg, “How long has he been like this?”

Greg shook his head, “He’s been having nightmares since we came back. He hasn’t been sleeping well and I had to wake him up from a horrible one this morning. He was screaming ‘no’ and shaking. His arm was out as if he were pointing a wand at someone. It took me a bit to shake him awake. He’s been like this since he woke up. He puked and, well, I’m not sure what’s going on.”

Hermione nearly screamed before quickly stunning Draco and turning to Theo. “Please carry him to our common room. Just put him on our couch when you get there. I’ll get Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall and meet you there.”

Theo just nodded and picked up the knocked out Draco and walked out of the room. Hermione followed him out the room through the crowds of girls who were fawning over the Draco in his arms and Theo himself. She wanted to growl as she noticed the way the girls circled around Draco like a Vultures would a dead body in the middle of the desert.  She wanted to growl at them to leave her husband alone, but they weren’t supposed to announce their relationship until the official announcement of their engagement. Plus no one was supposed to know of their marriage until after the ceremony in the summer. She had to bite her tongue and just follow Theo out of the room with hopes that the clingy girls wouldn’t continue to follow them.

* * *

After a few diagnostic spells by the mediwitch, Draco was moved to Hermione’s bed in her private room. McGonagall had stayed a little after Pomfrey left, and looked down her glasses at Hermione, “Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to condone intimate relations between students in this school; however, since the two of you are already married and his life depends on you accepting this bond, I suggest you go to him.” A sparkle existed within her eye that was reminiscent of their old Headmaster.

Hermione nodded, but remained silent as the professor left her common room. She turned to Theo, who raised an eyebrow at her, which she ignored as she walked up the stairs. She looked at the sleeping Draco in her bed. He was still pale and started to move around in his sleep. She approached him and ran her fingers through his hair. He slowly opened his grey eyes and gasped, “No, please no. Stay away from me before I hurt you, Hermione.”

She ignored his pleas as she climbed into the bed with him. “Draco, you’re having those dreams because of me. You’re not going to hurt me. It’s the side effects from me refusing our bond. I’m done hurting you. I don’t want to see you driven crazy by refusing the Veela like bond.”

His eyes widened and gasped, “Veela?”

She nodded causing her copper curls to bounce, “I’ll explain later, but now I’d like to make my husband feel better.” Before he could question her intentions she climbed atop him and captured his lips. She sucked on his bottom lip until he let her in and was soon assaulting his mouth. One hand was unbuttoning his crisp white shirt, and the other one was running through his silky locks.

She removed her hand from his hair only to help him remove the shirt. Her fingers traced over his sculpted abs and gently ran up and down his chest and arms. She managed all of this without breaking their kiss. She could feel his need in every tongue movement. She only broke the kiss to help remove his pants. She looked up at him and saw the sorrow in his haunted eyes. She halted her movements and stared at him, “What’s the matter?”

He moved his hands through his hair and massaged the top of his head, “I don’t know. I guess I can’t believe this is really happening. I don’t deserve you, Hermione. I’ve tortured people during the war. I’ve used the same curse that Bellatrix used on you. I-I tortured Rowle until the Dark Lord was satisfied and then he forced me to watch his snake eat him after he passed out from my torture. I was so frightened. I didn’t want to do it, but if I didn’t then I would be suffering from its affects by the Dark Lord’s wand. I knew I couldn’t go through that again. I-I experienced that after returning to the manor a failure, but I managed to continue to live because he found a use for me.”

She shushed him and held her finger to his lips, “It’s okay Draco. You only did what was required of you to survive, but you still didn’t kill anyone. You still managed to make it through the war without harming your soul.”

He shook his head as tears leaked from his tightly clenched eyes, as he forcefully removed her finger from his mouth, “You don’t understand. I dreamt that instead of Rowle suffering from my wand and that curse, I was standing there with the Dark Lord over my shoulder, and a visibly pregnant version of you writhing on the floor. I tried to stop it but my body wouldn’t respond. I tried to scream but nothing came out. You passed out and started to bleed. You lost the baby and slowly bled to death. All I could do was stand there and watch you. I’m just too afraid that I’ll hurt you and our child, Hermione. I’d rather suffer the effects of this bond alone then ever be close enough to cause harm to you two.”

She gasped, “I’m sorry, Draco. This is all my fault. If I had accepted our situation and spent more time with you instead of isolating you, then you wouldn’t have been plagued with those nightmares. You wouldn’t have the psychological effects associated with them, and you wouldn’t doubt your ability to be a good husband and father.” She continued to stare into his eyes as she undid his trousers and quickly removed them. He lay there in shock in his full glory as she quickly rid herself of her own clothing. She took her time to explore every inch of his exposed body and peppered it with kisses in a downward motion toward his saluting soldier.

She heard his surprised intake of air, as she took his whole staff in her mouth and sucked as she slowly let it back out. Her left hand ran up and down his inner thigh, as her other hand cupped and massaged his bollocks. She licked the tender and sensitive head circling it with her tongued before going back down to repeat the process. When she felt him shudder as he was getting close she quickly stopped, which won her a groan. She moved away from him and sat on the far end of the bed as he watched with heavy lidded confused eyes.

She smirked, and cupped her right breast as she twisted her nipple between her forefinger and thumb. Her other slowly moved down her chest toward her little nub and started to rub it, as she continued to stare at her gorgeous husband. She couldn’t stifle the moans the action created, as she felt warmth starting to pool in her stomach.

“You’re such a tease,” Draco growled when he regained in his thought processes. He moved quickly and soon had her pined to the bed with her left nipple in his mouth as he suckled. His right hand snaked down so that he could line himself up with her well prepared entrance. She felt his well endowed body part slowly enter her. She stifled a moan when it was fully sheathed within her.  He just stopped and looked into her eyes as if saying that he too could tease.

A smile crept across her face as she begged, “Draco, please fuck me now. I want to feel you.”

Draco let out a growl and started to pound, as if those two sentences sent him into overdrive. Hermione suppressed a chuckle, as she knew that using that tone and those words would elicit the response she desired.  He panted into her neck before nipping and sucking, which threw her over. Her nails dug into her his shoulders and back as she screamed his name in release. He followed shortly after and quickly collapsed beside her. He interlaced their fingers, as he laid next to her gasping for air.

 She took in deep calming breaths before rolling onto her side to take in his features. His face was wonderfully flushed and he looked much better than he had earlier that day. She cuddled up next to him and pulled the blankets out from under them to cover their glowing bodies. She kissed his cheek and snuggled into his neck. No words needed to be spoken as they both drifted off into blissful sleep. As they slept a golden glow circled around them before concentrating on Hermione’s stomach. Their auras then exploded into infinite colors and became one. It wasn’t until they woke up that they realized they could hear each other’s thoughts and feel each other’s emotions. They never felt any closer to the other, their bond was sealed, and their magic united.


	18. The N.E.W.T.s Practical

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Series (1997-2007) and any characters and original locations within the books belong to JK Rowling. I own my original characters and my plot. I am not trying to pass any of these characters or copyrighted ideas off as my own and therefore it isn’t plagiarism or copyright infringement. Pride and Prejudice belongs to Jane Austen, I am only borrowing her world and some of her dialog.

The weeks following the sealing of their bond were blissful. Hermione enjoyed waking up to the same handsome face each morning and Draco couldn’t complain when they regularly participated in acts of afternoon delight. Hermione found, as Easter break approached leaving only a few more weeks left to study before their N.E.W.T.s, her magical power had more than doubled. She was performing new and devastatingly difficult spells with only a couple of practices. She was once again excelling at school and she couldn’t help but wonder if somehow their bond or the pregnancy had increased her magic. The decision was made that the two of them would return to Malfoy Manor over the holiday, and the owl requesting their presence from Narcissa seemed to hint that a surprise waited.

Thus, it was with butterflies in her stomach and dread filling her heart, in which she boarded the Hogwarts Express holding her husband’s hand. Their relationship had gotten out to the school; however, no one knew the full extent of it except for the exclusive few who’d been privy since winter break. She could hear Draco’s questions in her mind and she finally sighed, “Yes, I’m worried about what kind of surprise your parents have waiting for us. For all you know, it could be a really ghastly wedding dress that I’m expected to wear because it’s been worn by Malfoy brides for centuries.”

Draco burst out laughing, “We’re rich, Hermione. We’re not a family of sentimental Hufflepuffs. We have expectations and superior taste. Like I’d want my wife to wear some hand me down wedding dress.” He rolled his eyes and wrinkled his nose in distaste, “I couldn’t even imagine you in some yellow-aged-lace thing from the turn of the century or Merlin knows what’s hidden up in the attic.”

Hermione crossed her arms, “I’ll have you know passing down priceless heirlooms is magical in itself. I cannot believe you’re so vain that you’d have an issue with me wearing a family heirloom. What if I wanted to wear my mother’s wedding dress for this ceremony? What if I expected you to wear a kilt like my father did to their wedding.” His eyes widened and he began to choke on his own saliva, which only caused her to chuckle, “What we go to school in Scotland? What’s your aversion to kilts? Did I mention that my mother is Scottish and it was expected for my parents to have a traditional Celtic wedding?”

“There is no way I’m wearing a kilt. I’m not some guard at the Muggle Queen’s manor. I will not wear a kilt like some common Scotsman. I’m a Malfoy, it’s beneath me.”

A mischievous twinkle lit her honey brown eyes, “You better watch it; your true arrogant colors are showing. I believe that your mother and I are planning this wedding. Well, mostly she’s planning this wedding, but if I share my desire to continue my family traditions with her. Don’t think you won’t be wearing a kilt like me father before you!”

Hermione smirked as Draco looked away. He stared out the window with his bottom lip stuck out in a delectable pout. His arms were crossed and Hermione couldn’t help but sending mental images of him wearing a kilt just to rub salt in the wound.

* * *

Hermione followed Draco up the stairs of the Manor after arriving from King’s Cross. They were greeted at the door by a well-dressed house elf and their presence was announced. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever get used to that type of entry. However, it was the couple that appeared behind her in-laws that had shocked her most. They’d found her parents and the two were running toward her with open arms. She couldn’t fight back her tears as her mother embraced her, “Mum, I thought we’d never find you.”

“Honey, you know that if you hadn’t made us forget, we would’ve returned much sooner than we did. We were fortunate enough to be visited by Lucius who set everything right and requested that we stay here to help with the wedding preparation. Your father and I were a bit shocked to discover that you were marrying your childhood bully and that we missed out on over a year of your life. Oh my baby is expecting and I can’t wait to be a grandmum.”

The pregnant witch couldn’t help but chuckle and look over her mother’s shoulder, “I’m guessing you’ve filled them on everything.”

Narcissa nodded, “We’ve enjoyed getting to know the parents of our new daughter.”

She rested her head on her mother’s shoulder basking in the warmth and love that could only exist within her mother’s arms, “So Mum, are you helping to plan the public ceremony?”

Jean nodded, “Of course, I knew that we couldn’t allow our traditions to die. You’re our only daughter after all, so we wanted to make sure everything was properly represented.”

She lifted her head, “So, you’ve taken care of the groom and groomsmen’s outfits.”

“Of course sweetie but I have left the bride’s maids and wedding dress to Narcissa. Of course, the dress is something that you’ll have to choose yourself, but she’s the one responsible for choosing the boutique we’ll visit.”

Narcissa spoke up, “I think we may have forgotten to tell you, but we made an appointment with a healer at St. Mungo’s for a checkup tomorrow.”

The head girl smiled, “So, does this mean that all of the grandparents are coming as well.”

Narcissa nodded, “Yes, but the grandfathers are going to wait outside of the room. We grandmothers can’t wait to see the baby. They’re able to project a picture of the baby when you’re this far along. Have you guys started to talk about names?”

Hermione shook her head, “I didn’t want to start thinking about that until I could discuss it with my parents. I know that we’ll continue with the Black tradition of naming children after the stars, but I also wanted to continue with the Greek name tradition from my father’s side.”

Narcissa’s eyes glistened, as she wrapped her arms around the petite witch in a tight hug, “I’m so happy that you’re keeping that tradition alive.”

Hermione laughed, “I was good friends with your cousin Sirius, do you seriously – no pun intended – think I’d let that tradition die? Plus I’ve always loved looking up at the constellations. I mean I didn’t just take Astronomy for the additional N.E.W.T., I took it because I love learning about the night’s sky.”

* * *

The pregnant witch sat on the examination table looking around the sterile room with concern. She was surprised about the Muggle integration occurring at St. Mungo’s, as she wiggled the paper made crinkling noises. She couldn’t help but wonder why they decided to use the paper instead of the usual cleaning spells. Perhaps they were finding that certain individuals shouldn’t be exposed to magic and thus the paper prevented that exposure when necessary. She was grasping for straws but felt more comfortable with the simple details. Maybe they created the Muggle friendly examination rooms, so Muggleborns and half-bloods would feel more comfortable when going to the hospital for nonemergency reasons.

She tapped her fingers on the paper as she looked at Narcissa and her mother who were sitting in the chairs on the side of the table before peering back over at the pacing Draco. She noticed the tense line in his shoulders even though he had his arms behind his back as he walked from one side of the exam room to the other. She was relieved that he looked just as nervous as she felt.

Her attention was drawn back to Narcissa when the woman cleared her throat, “Draco, sweetheart, please do sit down. Your pacing is making us all nervous.”

He stopped and crossed his arms over his over his chest and dropped one of his shoulders. He looked as if he was going to make a biting retort, when the door opened and a female healer walked into the room in her puke green robes. Her red hair was pulled up into a tight pony tail and she was looking down at a chart as she walked across the room. Her lavender colored eyes popped up and widened as she recognized the woman before her, “When I saw Hermione Malfoy on the chart, I never thought it’d be you! Oh my goodness, the best friend of Harry Potter is in the maternity ward. Merlin, are you expecting?”

Draco nearly pulled his hair in frustration, “Are you daft woman? Why the hell do you think she’s here?” He turned to his mother with a pleading tone, “Please tell me we’ve had this healer sign a bloody confidentiality agreement that prevents her from going to the Prophet or Witch Weekly with this news.”

Narcissa regally stood and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Draco, you need to calm down. I understand that you’re concerned about the baby, but resorting to the spoiled brat you were when you were younger doesn’t help anything.”

Hermione tried to suppress the chuckle that threatened to break free at the properly mollified look that crossed Draco’s face.

His head fell, “I’m sorry Mother. Perhaps I should take a seat.”

The healer smiled, “I assure you Mr. Malfoy, we understand the need for discretion here. I’m excited to be serving such an honored war hero.” She cleared her throat, “Now, I see that you are here for a routine scan of the little witch or wizard growing in your womb. So, why don’t we get started so daddy can stop having a panic attack?”

The healer pulled out her bone white wand and started chanting. Everyone’s eyes centered on the iridescent shimmer that began to form above Hermione’s stomach. It quickly took more shape as the image resembled a 3D Muggle ultrasound. However, instead of the image being limited to a screen it rotated like it was an actual form. The pregnant witch felt her eyes water as she looked up on her fully formed child. The scan twisted and turned and soon Hermione was staring at two babies causing her to gasp, “Please tell me that’s a duplicate image and that I’m not pregnant with twins.”

The redhead chuckled, “No, Hermione those are your babies. It seems that you’re having twin boys.”

The bookworm shook her head, “Cissy, we may have to use concealment spells during the wedding because I have a feeling that I will be larger than we expected for the public event. We don’t need someone saying that the reason why Draco and I are marrying is because I got knocked up. We know that our bonding occurred before for the conception, but since you wanted to publicly announce our engagement and have a proper ceremony, we have more to discuss.”

The older blond seemed to ignore the concern as she clapped her hands to her chest, “We’re having two grandchildren at once. I’m so excited; we have to go tell the boys.” She gave a dismissive wave as Jean followed her, “Don’t worry about the wedding, we still have plenty of time to plan it.”

* * *

Hermione was still in shock when she arrived back at the castle after the holiday break. She didn’t know how much the twins would affect her practical portion of her N.E.W.T.s and the exams were fast approaching. She knew at the same time that additional stress would not be good for her babies. Her mum was so excited to be a grandmum. She had to do everything right, but at the same time her heart was beating rapidly, she was feeling like she was drowning, and having difficulty breathing when she even thought about the assessments. Her mind was filled with so many worries that she was having trouble sleeping and waking up from nightmares that had Bellatrix torturing her during her potions practical.

It had gone on for a couple of weeks before she was cornered by Ginny, Luna, Theo, and Draco. They all called an intervention and demanded that she see the nurse before things got any worse. After having a thorough examination with the medical witch, she was given some pregnancy safe sleeping potions and the odd prescription of being intimate with her partner at least twice a week to help relieve her stress. The matron went on to explain that she usually didn’t see it appropriate to suggest such illicit activities to occur on school grounds, but that she and Draco were both of age, married, and already expecting their first child. Hermione didn’t have the heart to correct the woman and state that they were actually expecting twins. Something that hadn’t occurred in the Malfoy line in generations, but then again thanks to the curse each generation after Marcus only had one male child.

So, it was because of these events that the usually revision obsessed witch was walking away from her book littered common room to molest her husband the night before their first exams. She found the obnoxious blond sleeping without a care in the world, which only angered her more and made her unconcerned with waking him. She placed her hand on her small baby bump as she approached the bed. A small smirk lit her face in the moonlit room, as she quickly relieved herself of her clothes. Her light footsteps were barely heard as she reached the bed and climbed under the sheets in nothing but that in which she came into the world. She ran her fingers along the defined muscles that made up the exquisitely exposed chest of her husband, and before he could fully awaken, she moved to pin him as she flicked her wand to remove his pajama pants.

She moaned at the feel of his silky skin as she grinded against him. She didn’t realize how randy she was until she had the sleeping Draco below her. She licked her lips as she looked over his exposed flesh and couldn’t stop herself from licking and nibbling his bare chest. She felt him shudder and gasp moments before his eyes burst opened, “I’m guessing you fancy a shag?”

She licked her lips and simply nodded as she reached between them to position his waiting manhood. She bent over and captured his lips as she felt the wonders of him inside her. She focused fully upon the pleasure of each movement, the tingles as he ran his milky fingers along her spine, and the warmth pooling within as he nipped at her exposed neck. The rocking of her hips quickened and she felt the building pressure, which only promised unspeakable bliss. Soon it was all over and she sighed in relief. She cuddled next to her spent husband laying her head on his chest and welcomed the sleep that only total exhaustion could bring.

* * *

It was with the repeating of the activities of the night before the first exam that helped the frizzy hair witch make it through the tedious exam week by relieving the building stress. She was glowing with overflowing happiness each morning but by the final exam day, their activities seemed to take their toll on her blond husband. Then again she couldn’t be sure as he had never really been much of a morning person. Their final exam was for Defense Against the Dark Arts and Hermione knew she’d excel at the practical portion, however Draco showed his concern with her dueling. He seemed to fear that she’d be hit with something that could harm her and the babies. She appeased his concern by promising to advise the tester of her condition.

She was surprised to see Bill standing before her when she reached the room. The dragon tooth earring was swinging from his left ear as he smiled at her. She chuckled, “Well, I guess I won’t have to inform you of my condition after all. So, I’m guessing this practical requires a duel. Are you my opponent or the assessor?”

Bill pressed his lips together, “I’m your opponent and I will take your condition into consideration.” He pointed to an older witch with a clipboard, “She will be the one grading it.”

The woman looked up from her clipboard and cleared her throat, “Alright, take your dueling positions. I will be evaluating your defensive and offensive abilities.”

Hermione bowed to Bill before starting their duel. She decided to show her silent casting as well as her wandless abilities, which had both increased with the additional magic surrounding her because of the twins. Bill sent the first spell at her, which she quickly blocked before casting a shielding charm around her before he popped off a couple more. She dropped the shield before sending a silent disarming spell with her left hand, which had so much power it caused Bill to fly across the hall, she quickly caught his flying wand, and ran to check on how he was faring. She handed back his wand, “Here Bill. I’m sorry about that disarming spell. I guess I’m still getting used to my new power levels.”

He shook his head, “Yes well, fighting a pregnant witch can always have horrible consequences. I remember some of the magic my mother performed when she was pregnant with the Twins.” The smile dropped from his face as he thought of Fred.

The older witch approached them, “Thank you William. If you could assist with the next person while I finish Ms. Granger’s assessment, I’d greatly appreciate it.” Bill nodded and left Hermione with the woman with the clipboard. The woman then looked back down at the clipboard, “Okay, so I understand that you are a member of the Golden Trio as well as Dumbledore’s army. I wanted to test your ability to cast wards and I couldn’t help but wonder if you have the ability to cast a corporal Patronus like your friend Harry Potter.”

Hermione chuckled as she went around a small circle and casted the overly familiar wards wordlessly she’d cast numerous times she, Harry, and Ron were on the run the previous year. The woman took her wand and probed them as she took notes with her feathered quill. She then looked up and raised an eyebrow as to ask about the Patronus. Hermione smiled and lifted her wand capturing the thought of how Draco made her fill before speaking, “ _Expecto Patronum._ ”

She watched the white light burst from her wand and was expecting to see her familiar otter; however, she was shocked when a twisting winged serpent slithered through the air. She couldn’t help but gasp at the new shape and tried to remember if she had casted the charm since they bonded.

The woman looked up at her with a raised eyebrow, “I was under the impression that your Patronus was that of an otter. I couldn’t imagine why a Gryffindor would have a serpentine one.”

Hermione chuckled, “The announcement hasn’t been made yet, but Draco Malfoy and I will be having our engagement party here shortly. I cannot help but wonder if our relationship is what changed its shape. Was there anything else I need to demonstrate?”

The woman shook her head and continued to write on her clipboard as she dismissed Hermione with her hand. She walked out of the great hall and noticed Draco waiting in the chairs waiting for his name to be called. She chuckled as her Patronus followed her out of the room and started circling Draco. He raised an eyebrow, “What’s this?”

She smiled, “It seems the corporal form of my Patronus changed since our bonding.”

His eyes widened and she dispersed her serpent before leaving her husband to wait for his final exam. She wondered how well the engagement announcement would go over in the next Daily Prophet. Narcissa had sent notice that it would appear in the issue following their final exam because she didn’t want them hounded when they so focused on their N.E.W.T.s. 


	19. The Ceremony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Series (1997-2007) and any characters and original locations within the books belong to JK Rowling. I own my original characters and my plot. I am not trying to pass any of these characters or copyrighted ideas off as my own and therefore it isn’t plagiarism or copyright infringement. Pride and Prejudice belongs to Jane Austen, I am only borrowing her world and some of her dialog.

Hermione was a bit shocked at how well the Wizarding public took the news of the upcoming nuptials between the former Death Eater and the Gryffindor Golden Girl. Then again Draco had managed to snag a position on the most eligible bachelor’s lists for 1998 in the New Year issue of _Witch Weekly_. That was even with the less than favorable view of his name, so she could understand why there wasn’t too much of an uproar. Hermione sighed as she stared into the mirror as her Maid of Honor, Ginny, was busy fixing her hair into a classic up do with a few loose cascading curls. Her pregnancy had limited her options for a hen party and since Hermione was already married in everything way except for a public ceremony, she really didn’t have the desire to go out partying. Luna was busy dancing around the room and speaking about scorpions bursting into flames before being reborn as doves. Her other bridesmaid Fleur was busy doing her makeup and mumbling about all of the concealment charms she learned at Beauxbatons. Hermione was too busy trying to block her thoughts from projecting to Draco, as she didn’t want to ruin the surprise, to really listen to what the vivacious Veela was saying.

They had decided to have the ceremony in the vast gardens at that manor, the August weather in Wiltshire was perfect for it, and Hermione was thankful for the invention of cooling charms. She stepped into the empire styled white dress that had delicate pearl beading acceding the corset and gold trim along the split overskirt. The underskirt shone with a silvery gray reminiscent of Draco’s eyes. Fleur finished lacing up the back and tying it before she pointed her wand at Hermione’s rounded belly. A lavender beam shot from her wand and Hermione noticed her pregnancy was perfectly concealed as the blonde beauty mumbled, “There that sould do itz.”

Ginny smiled over her shoulder as she placed the Malfoy heirloom tearra that had the lace vale attached to it perfectly upon her head, “Oh Merlin, you look so gorgeous. I really think that Malfoy will resemble a mermaid out of water when he sees you.”

“I can tell that you’re happy Hermione, because your dress is full of kipples. They bring good luck on wedding days.” Luna stared at her with her usual dreamy look.

She smiled and took a deep breath calming her nerves. She only hoped that the twins didn’t kick too much during the ceremony. Before Hermione left to join her father in the hallway, Fleur grabbed her by the arm, “There iz someting I must tell you. Our children will be in the same year at ‘ogwarts.”

Hermione smiled, “You and Bill are expecting? That’s wonderful.”

The blonde nodded her head enthusiastically, “My Veela blood allowed me to know at the moment of conception. She probably won’t come until late April early May.”

* * *

Draco stood next to the silver arbor that had both yell and white climbing roses blooming all over it. It was the center piece of the wedding ceremony, as he and Hermione would both stand under it as Minister Shacklebolt would stand between them to perform the vows. They were only performing a legal ceremony, as no one knew what adding an additional bonding would do to the young couple. Draco’s longer hair, which had grown out since the bonding, was pulled back at the nape of his neck with a white leather tie. He kept an impassive mask on his face as he stood before everyone in a kilt in the traditional wedding tartan for the MacDougal clan. However, he was fortunate enough to say that the upper part of his outfit did rather resemble dress robes including the customary bow tie, if he ignored the additional air flow. He didn’t understand the need for the purse that went around his waist other than to block his bollocks from view when he sat down. His crazy mother in law had gone on about tradition and his mother had charmed his kilt to make his undergarments invisible so that he looked the part of a true Scotsman without the hygiene concerns. His mother didn’t want a faux pas to drag the Malfoy name further into the mud, whereas, Draco didn’t see the point as he was and never would be Scottish.

He stood there and concentrated fully on the bond between him and Hermione, hoping that she would let one of her walls slip allowing him a glimpse of his beautiful bride. Blaise, who was his best man, placed a hand on his shoulder to bring him out of his daze and whispered in his ear, “If you keep staring like that, the guests will wonder if you’re being forced into this marriage. You look as if you’re staring down a Death Eater in defiance and that you’re next move is bound to be one of the Unforgivables.”

He shook his head, “No, I was just trying to wipe my mind clear from that blasted stag party you threw for me last night. I understand that strippers are common at those things; however you could’ve kept my preferences in mind instead of your own. I’m really surprised that the Weasel didn’t hex you when that guy showed up. Did he really have to give me a bloody lap dance?” When his other two groomsmen started chuckling beside them, he knew that he’d spoken a louder than he thought. Harry shook his head, as if he was replaying the memory, and Theo grabbed his stomach as he rolled in peals of laughter.

Blaise just smirked, “No, Ronald didn’t hex me because he helped me pick out the stripper for your stag party. We all enjoyed watching him give you a lap dance. The look of embarrassment on your face was priceless and I’m glad that George decided to bring his camera. You can’t imagine how much Witch Weekly paid for those pictures and the story about your stag night. Everyone in Wizarding London wants to know about your wedding to the Golden Girl and any gossip that goes along with it.”

The groom ran a hand over his face, “You didn’t really send that story to them, did you?”

“We sure did. It was Hermione’s idea of revenge since you wouldn’t give up your Stag Night even though the two of you are already bonded. The three of us planned it weeks in advance and she rather thought the male stripper was brilliant. I only wish that I had thought of it and not my ferocious lion.”

“I’d rather not hear about you two playing hide the snake in the lion. I really love you man, but I don’t think I could deal with the mental images of a pasty ginger being pounded by my Italian mate. The images are ghastly and are already wreaking havoc on my psyche.”

Harry and Theo both gagged before bursting into laughter. Harry stopped for a moment, “Malfoy, you sure do know how to paint a picture that you claim you’d never think about.”

Before Draco could even respond to the jibe the garden filled with ethereal harp music symbolizing the beginning of the wedding march. Teddy was walked down the aisle by smartly dressed Andromeda, who held the pillow with the rings for the little tike. Teddy smiled and his hair shifted to each color of hair he saw as he walked toward the front. Andromeda handed the pillow with the tied rings to Blaise and then picked up Teddy before taking her designated seat right next to her baby sister.

The next to appear on the passageway was Luna in a silver bride’s maid dress with a circlet of flowers on her dirty blonde head. Fleur followed her looking just as lovely in silver and her Veela heritage seemed to shine and shock many of the guests. The maid of honor, Ginny, followed after her in a lovely gold dress that somehow managed to complement her auburn locks. He felt his heart quicken as the harp music changed and he got his first glimpse of Hermione being escorted down the garden pathway by her father, who was also wearing the traditional kilt.

His eyes swept over his beautiful bride, from the white gold diamond encrusted tiara, to the beading on the corset of her flattering dress, to the silver and gold accents that meshed with her bridesmaid's dresses wonderfully. He felt his eyes water as he looked upon his wife, the mother of his future children, and the woman he’d be bonded to the rest of his life. The one who saved him from a curse of lifelong unhappiness, and he knew in that moment that he didn’t deserve a woman as wonderful as her, but he vowed to become a worthy man one day.

Minister Shacklebolt casted _Sonorus_ to magnify his voice, “Hello everyone we are gathered here today to join this couple. In light of Hermione’s heritage a modern Muggle ceremony shall be performed and the couple has chosen to perform the bonding portion of the traditional wedding ritual in private. So, let us start by having the bride and groom speak their vows to one another.”

Draco was so nervous even though he’d practiced the vows he’d written over a month ago until he had every line memorized. Upon looking into the deep chocolate pools belonging to the woman he loved more than life itself the carefully prepared words slipped from his grasp and were replaced with a flow of sincere words spoken directly from his heart, “Hermione Jean Granger, you were never an ordinary witch and from the moment I saw you on the Hogwarts train, I knew there was something special about you. For the longest time the universe seemed hell bent on keeping us apart, be it my jealousy of you always beating me in marks, the fact that I was forced to become a Death Eater and you are one of Harry Potter’s best friends, and even the second Wizarding War. We fought on opposite sides, you valiantly and me reluctantly.”

He took her hand and gave it a squeeze, “In the end, it took a happenstance of events surrounded by a rather cheeky and untested Weasley product for everything to be set right in our world. It was in those moments that took place in the world of Jane Austen that we finally took the time to get to know the person behind the mask. In those moments that I all but bared my soul to you in hopes that you wouldn’t reject me further. I was so frightened in those beginning moments but in the end I wouldn’t change the experience for anything. I’m so happy to have you in my life and I would do anything to keep you there. You are the light that finally broke through the clouds of despair the war left me with. You’re the one that I want to hold close at night to keep the dark memories away. You are everything I need and without you I fear I wouldn’t survive for the world is harsh and it is only but you that rounds the sharp edges in my life.”

Hermione had tears slipping down her cheeks, “Draco Lucius Malfoy, you were a sad loathsome cockroach when you were younger, but the war changed you like everyone else it has touched. You played your part well and did everything to protect your family, and I’m proud to one day give you more family to protect. You were misguided, mistreated, and overall misunderstood. Everyone is so willing to look at that faded mark on your left forearm and call you a death eater without considering the circumstances. I’m glad that I finally saw past the walls, shields, and masks you’ve surrounded yourself to survive. I finally saw that innocent child who was forced to grow up way to fast. I am proud of the man you’ve become and know that you’ll be a brilliant father. For you have learned from the mistakes of your forefathers and are unlikely to commit the same travesties. Though many may have seen you as a negative force in our youth, I have to admit that the competition between the two of us motivated to excel even more. You’re one of the many reasons why I became head girl because you represented everyone that thought I’d be inept with magic simply because I came from distant squib lines.”

She hiccupped for a moment as he squeezed her hand, “I look forward to growing old with you as our children grow and have children of their own. Together we shall restore kindness, honor, and heaven forbid pride to the Malfoy line. Together with our love, our descendants shall walk in the warmth of the light and never be forced into the pits of darkness your family has finally escaped from. I love you, my heart beats for you, and our magic shall be forever bound only strengthening us further. For in the end love is the most powerful of all magic. It’s what saved Harry Potter twice, the love of a son, and it is what Dumbledore championed for during his long life. For with love comes light and hope, and with my love happiness flutters within the pit of my belly. A peaceful warmth flows over my entire being as I look into your calming eyes. In you I see everything I have dreamt for and every desire for which I thought impossible even with limitless amounts of magic.”

Draco broke eye contact for a moment and looked into the crowd where he was surprised to see hankies held to many of the attending witches eyes at the words shared between him and his bloody beautiful wife. The Minister once again spoke, “Please gather the rings in which you wish to exchange.” He nodded when each had the other’s ring in their hand.

Draco placed the ruby and white gold wedding band on Hermione’s wedding finger, “With this ring, I thee wed.”

She smiled and pushed the titanium band on his left ring finger, “With this ring, I thee wed.”

The minister announced, “You may now kiss your bride.”

Draco pulled her into a tight embrace but remained mindful of her protruding belly. Though its appearance had been concealed, the mass was still there. One hand rested on her cheek as their lips met in a ferocious tango to a standing ovation.

* * *

The reception and dinner had gone without a hitch. The guests stood around with flutes of champagne, as the bride and groom began opening their gifts. It was tradition to offer one’s thanks right away as many of the guests were from other parts of Europe including Victor Krum who was surrounded by hungry eyed witches. Hermione sat next to him opening many of the gifts and Draco enjoyed watching her tackle each one with delicate care. However his attention was distracted when a gift landed right in front of him. He looked around trying to determine who had placed it before him but no one looked suspicious in the crowd. He looked down at the tag and it stated it was from the Weasley Family. If it had said from George Weasley, he would’ve most definitely not opened it, but he knew that Molly would never allow anything harmful in a gift from the family.

He ripped open the paper and looked at the title of the book. He raised an eyebrow as he read _Beauty and the Beast_ and dread filled his stomach only a moment before the spinning occurred. He cursed under his breath as he recognized the pull of a portkey. He was going to kill George Weasley when he got his hands him. Why the hell was he being sent within another book? Why was he being forced to go through one of these horrible stories again, and this time alone? Would he survive on his own? When all of his light had been sucked away from him in that moment?

* * *

Hermione was busy opening a shrunken gold sofa when she noticed a bright flash to her left where her husband was sitting only moments before. She looked over and noticed a book sitting on the table and screamed, “George Fabian Weasley, I am going to kick your pasty ginger arse from here all the way to Azkaban. How dare you trap my husband in another one of those vile books on my wedding night.”

The Weasley prankster bowed before her, “Well, I made some alterations and really needed to test them out. Don’t worry this story is much shorter so you won’t be trapped in there for days. Also, I managed to make it activate only when the proper person touches it. That way it will prevent unintentional tagging along. So go ahead and prepare yourself for your honeymoon. I thought you’d rather enjoy the French countryside.”

“Beauty and the Beast, you bumbling buffoon, you chose that on purpose to torture Draco. You’re expecting him to be the Beast, are you not? If this mentally scars my husband, so help me, you will wish that you were never born. I will make your life miserable and you should know not to mess with a hormonal witch.” She reached over and touched the book and soon felt the pulling sensation of being transported within the fictional world.

* * *

George smiled as he thought of all the modifications he and Fred had made to the book. He quickly casted the _Sonorus_ to get everyone’s attention, “I have sent the newlyweds on their honeymoon. They are testing out a modified Weasley product. Now if anyone would like to watch what’s going on in the story, I have also developed a charm similar to a Muggle fellyvison.” With a few waves of his wand a giant projected image appeared above the book.

Everyone who attended the reception turned to stare at the image. Draco was answering the door of a beautiful castle to a Bellatrix doppelganger dressed in a blood covered death eater cloak. The woman asked if she could come in out of the cold and stay. His face twisted and he announced, “I would never allow the likes of you to lodge in any of my manors you vial disgusting woman.”

George chuckled, “We now see Draco’s true feelings when it comes to his dearly departed Aunt.”

The woman quickly transformed into the regal likeness of Narcissa Malfoy. Her cloak shimmering into a magnificent silver dress that set of her light blue eyes, “Your heart as black as coal and I shall make your handsome exterior match your tattered soul, as you are nothing but a vain being that cares of shallow appearances.” She pointed her wand at Draco and silver light strikes the image of Draco. He fell to the ground in pain pulling his knees to his chest, as he gasped for air.

Everyone watching the image gasped when Draco stood from the ground. His blond hair was gone and replaced with sickly gray flesh, his nose was missing but for two slits, he possessed a serpentine tongue. He resembled Voldemort except instead of the glowing red eyes of the devil, his remained the same silver.

George grunted as he felt the smack across the back of his head. He turned to see the angry blue eyes of the real Narcissa Malfoy, “How dare you send my son into a book that forced him to resemble the Dark Lord.”

He held his hands up in defense, “I had no way of knowing that his beastly appearance would resemble that mad man. He went in first and thus everyone is chaste based upon his subconscious thoughts. I would’ve thought he would’ve appeared similar to the lion like form that’s described within the book. I never considered he’d take on that ghastly form. I guess I never considered his true fears of becoming like Voldemort.”

“You better hope that this doesn’t cause harm to his already unstable mental state,” she warned pulling out her wand.

“There’s nothing we can do at this point. I still haven’t thought to put in an emergency escape charm.” He tapped his chin with this finger, “You know that’s something we should probably include in the next version of these books.” The comment got another smack across the back of his head.


	20. Chapter Twenty – Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Series (1997-2007) and any characters and original locations within the books belong to JK Rowling. I own my original characters and my plot. I am not trying to pass any of these characters or copyrighted ideas off as my own and therefore it isn’t plagiarism or copyright infringement. Pride and Prejudice belongs to Jane Austen, I am only borrowing her world and some of her dialog.

George watched as the image shimmered as the story reached completion. A bright white light erupted from the book and two bodies were spit out. Hermione was appeared in her wedding dress and unfortunately for Draco, his kilt became a little twisted exposing his family jewels to anyone looking. Until the frazzled witch noticed and quickly restored her husband’s modesty, in which case didn’t go unnoticed by the albino ferret. The twin chuckled as he noticed the pink twinge on the proud Malfoy’s face. He’d been arguing with Fred over the creation of a _Wuthering Heights_ version of the book when he felt a strong slap across the back of his head. He turned toward the irate witch keeping his hand firmly on his pocketed wand.

She crossed her arms and tapped her foot, “What the hell were you thinking George? I cannot believe that you sent my knew husband into a book where he had face both his dead aunt, who tortured him as much as she tortured me, but forced him to take on the beastly appearance of his tormentor. Do you know what becoming such a monster can do to his already fragile psyche?”

The blonde hissed, “Stop talking like I’m not here. You’re making me sound weak.”

“I am stating the facts. I really don’t know what it is about you boys and hiding your suffering. How the hell are you supposed to heal, when all you bottle your feelings?” She turned away from her ever reddening husband and back toward the prankster, “Are you going to answer me?”

He ignored the humorous antidotes Fred was streaming in his mind before shrugging, “I have to admit is that all I did was create the book. You know as well as anyone else that none of the cast is already chosen prior to one entering the world. Draco faced his dead aunt and was cursed by his mother because his subconscious casted those roles that way. It’s also the same reason why he had to live in that snake’s skin.” He went back to his argument with Fred about the validity of _Wuthering Heights_ , when he slipped and spoke aloud, “I really don’t see why _Wuthering Heights_ wouldn’t be a good choice for our future prototypes.”

Fred’s voice boomed in his mind. _That’s only because you’ve yet to read that particular novel. Remember we split the Muggle literature between the two of us and I was the one that got that book. If you read the damn thing then you’d know why no one would want to enter that story._

Hermione rolled her eyes, “It’s apparent that you’ve never read that book, George. No one in their right mind would want to enter a tragic love story where the female lead, Catherine, end up dying during childbirth and the male lead, Heathcliff, ends up shooting himself. Plus, that story is just too hard to follow because it starts in the future and goes back and tells the actual story. Who the heck would want to wade through all the confusing parts with the visitor trying to figure out the relations between the people residing in the house? Yes Catherine’s daughter married her cousin who happens to be the son of Heathcliff that he had with Catherine’s husband’s sister. Not to mention that the other male she didn’t marry is actually her cousin because he is the son of Catherine’s brother. Frankly anyone would be better of waiting for the Masterpiece classic series to come out.” She tapped her chin, “Then again pureblood families could understand the whole marrying your cousin thing.”  

“Then what’s with all of those females talking about how romantic it is to have Catherine running around the moors calling out her lover’s name?”

She huffed, “Look, I know for a bloody fact that you’re not as daft as Ron. Unless you plan on using the book as a form of torture like you did with this _Beauty and the Beast copy_ ,” She lifted the deactivated book, “then I strong advise against creating such a book unless you plan on testing it on yourself. However, I would strongly suggest reading the sodding thing before you enter that bloody world.”

A chuckle broke out from behind them before Theo’s silky voice carried, “She’s right about _Weathering Heights_ , well to a point. I love the book, but even I wouldn’t be stupid enough to want to visit it in one of your joke book traps.”

George ignored Theo’s comment as he focused on Hermione. A smile spread across his face as his eyes wiggled, “So, how did you enjoy your honeymoon?”

Draco paled, “If you ever send me into one of those things again, I will not hesitate to kill you. I think it’s time I retired to bed and hope that my wife will be able to sooth my nerves.”

“Wow, you really do sound like pampered little prat.” George quipped watching for the man’s response.

The groom’s whole body tensed, his hands drawn into tight firsts, as he clinched his teeth and growled, “You sent me into that bleeding book, which induced flashbacks and you have the idiocy to call me pampered. Sure you lost your ear in the war, but I have seen far worse than you could possibly imagine. I don’t think you understand the full implications of the type of trauma it takes to create night terrors, however I do. Now get out of my face before I hex you and miss my twins birth because I’m in a holding cell in Azkaban.”

 _He’s right you know George. You watched what he went through in that book, and though I know you didn’t intend for it to be anything more than amusing, it still caused him pain. You should probably apologize._ Fred’s voice boomed in his mind causing him to mutter under his breath, “Apparently death has given you a conscious.” He looked into those thundercloud gray eyes, “Look Draco, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to get so far out of hand. I understand that my joke went too far and perhaps it wasn’t the best story choice for you. I really had no way of knowing your mind would create a Voldemort look alike when creating the beast.”

* * *

The Malfoy heir shot up from his bed when he heard a painful yell from his pregnant wife. He looked over and noticed the sweat dripping from her forehead. Her eyes were glazed over in pain as she let out another whimpering moan. He jumped to his feet and quickly grabbed the already packed and shrunken bags. He sent his recently perfected Patronus to his parents with a message to meet them at St. Mungo’s. He quickly cast a feather weight charm on his wife before lifting her into his arms and apparating them to the lobby of the wizard hospital. His cool demeanor slipped for a moment as he spoke to the front desk assistant and the panic was heard in his voice, “My wife needs a healer now! The twins are coming and I know that there can be complications with birthing twins. I don’t want to lose them; I can’t lose any of them.”

He pulled his wand when he didn’t think the witch behind the desk was moving fast enough. He was seeing red in his panic and frustration of not being to do anything for his wife and children. He knew the world saw him as much of a monster as he saw when he was in the _Beauty and the Beast_ Novel. However, it was only a little after midnight on September 1st and the twin’s due date wasn’t until the 30th. His babies were coming early and he feared it was because something had gone wrong. His wrist shook as he continued to cradle his wife. He did something that no Malfoy should ever do he begged, “Please get my wife a healer. She’s the war heroin Hermione Granger. That should mean something, right? I know that I’m just an ex-death eater, but surely she deserves everything Wizarding Britain can offer.”

He was saved from making any more of a fool of himself when his parents appeared behind him. His mother squeezed his shoulder as his father intimidated the woman into action. Just a few words spoken from him got a healer at their side and they were in one of the delivery rooms right away. Lucius waited outside of the room while Narcissa popped over to pick up the Grangers. Upon returning she soon joined her son in the room along with Jean. A team of healers and nurses surrounded the brightest witch of their age, while Draco stood frozen against the wall feeling helpless.

He felt dread bubble up into full out panic. His mind played the worst possible scenarios in his mind. Hermione died from blood loss and both of the twins were dead on arrival. None of the visions had a happy connotation and he swore that something was going to go wrong. His facsimile of a happy life was just about to shatter. He knew that something had gone wrong and the curse remained unbroken. He was so used to feeling miserable that when something was going right he was busy looking around the corner for the next bad thing that was surely to come. He was a Malfoy and that meant he wasn’t supposed to ever achieve happiness. One of the nurse’s must have noticed the panic because he thrust a vile of calming draught in his hand and demanded he drink it. His heartbeat was too loud for him to hear everything she said but he gulped it down quickly. He sighed when the panic finally subsided and he was able to approach his wife and unborn children.

Time seemed to stop and speed up at the same exact time. He couldn’t even comprehend how it was possible for both to occur simultaneously. Soon tears were filling his eyes as he held his first born son. The little wizard was just perfect in every conceivable way, from his small button nose to his pouty lips. He only had a light dusting of blond hair on his head. He smiled and looked over at Hermione, “This was is most definitely our little Scorpius Hyperion.”

His wife looked up from the little bundle in her arms, “I agree because I’m definitely holding little Phoenix Aléxandros.”

Draco sat down on the bed next to her and looked over at the little boy in her arms that had an almost identical face to his brother except for his coloring. His complexion was a bit darker and his hair was jet black in shade. “Part of me wonder’s how twins can be so different in appearance.”

Peals of laughter burst from the angle in the hospital bed, “Muggles have an explanation for that, as two different types of twins exist. In the Wizarding world identical twins seems to be far more common, as the egg splits in the development process. I still don’t understand why that occurs except through influence in a magical nature. Our lovely twins are fraternal, meaning that I dropped two eggs and they were both fertilized. In other words they each have their own unique DNA. I really think it’s because of the fertility and lusts spell we were under at the time of conception. Think about it, if one is trying to insure that a child is conceived and carried to term, wouldn’t it be better to have more than one attempt? I’ll have to speak with Brutus’ painting to find a starting point on researching the components of those spells.”

“So what you’re saying is that Scorp took after me in coloring and Nix took after you?” He looked back down at the angle in his arms who continued to sleep. He still couldn’t believe that he was blessed with two perfect beings that he could love and cherish. He would make sure that they never saw the horrors that he was forced to see during the Second Wizarding War. He would raise them in the warmth of the light and as far away from the darkness as possible. If they weren’t also the Hermione’s sons, then he may worry about their future.

* * *

The family approached managed to run through the barrier of 9 ¾ and appeared on the other side where the red Hogwarts engine awaited. The woman placed her hand on her slightly protruding tummy as they prepared to say goodbye to their sons. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes as the full impact of the situation washed over her. She pulled them both into a tight hug, “Now remember to keep up on your studies and that we’ll love you no matter which house you’re sorted into. Please don’t forget to owl us right away to let us know where you’ve ended up. I’ll make sure to keep you informed about the twins.”

Scorpius rolled his gray eyes, “Yes mum!” He quickly pulled away when he spotted Rose with her fathers.

Phoenix continued to hug her as she watched the interaction between her other son and Ron and Blaise’s adoptive daughter. She couldn’t help but laugh at the idea of such an allegiance between the two families. Phoenix whispered, “What if I’m sorted into Hufflepuff?”

She chuckled, “Then that house would be delighted to have you. You’re cousin Dora was a Hufflepuff and she was one of the most valued members of the Order of the Phoenix. Though I believe you’re more likely to be sorted into either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor based upon your intelligence and courage. Do not worry though. It doesn’t matter what house you end up in, as you will easily make friends no matter what. You’re a very caring, bright, and handsome person, so you will be placed where you will thrive best.”

His golden eyes sparkled, “Thanks mum. I should probably go keep an eye on Scorp before he gets himself hexed by Ron or Blaise for hitting on Rose.”

She smiled as she watched the little group joined by Victoire Weasley and Teddy Lupin before the five of them boarded the train together. Her husband wrapped his arm around her waist as they watched the train pull away. She smiled and turned toward her friends. Ron and Blaise were quickly joined by Harry and Ginny Potter and their three children. James (9) was busy whining about not being old enough to go yet, Albus (6) had the look of deep thought in his distinctive green eyes, and Lilly(3) was happy in her father’s arms.

Ginny chuckled, “So, are you really ready to start the process all over again Hermione?”

The brunette nodded her head, “Absolutely. The house will be too quiet now that our boys are off to Hogwarts. We really are looking forward to having young children in the manor again. Plus Cissy and Luke are excited about having more grandchildren. They can’t wait until the babies come.” She rolled her eyes, “I’ve continued to research the fertility spells I’m still under, but have yet to find anything other than contraceptive potions that will prevent me from having twins. The spell seems to be permanent and causes two eggs to drop every cycle. So, I’d say after these two are born we’re done.”

“I guess your traded one curse for another. Though I believe every child is a gift to be cherished. I do agree that having two at a time would put a damper on the amount of times one’s willing to try. I couldn’t imagine having duplicates and having six of these wee ones.” Harry rubbed his hand through James’ already messy brown hair.

Ron cleared his throat, “I guess me and Blaise have a bit of an announcement as well. You know how the ministry has been working on a potion or finding some sort of way to allow same sex couples to have a biological heir?” The group nodded. He coughed, “Well, they found a potion and we’re testing it out and well-”

“I’m pregnant!”

Everyone’s eyes popped over the Italian. Hermione raised an eyebrow, “Does Rose know?”

The two nodded and Ron smiled, “I’m sure she’s sharing the news with Scorp as we speak.”

Harry sighed, “No matter how long I live in the Wizarding World magic does something that leaves me in complete awe. To think that wizards have found a way to have a male carry a child. I’m so happy for you two and I look forward to meeting your new child.”

“When a Weasley is involved, I’ve learned to expect the unexpected. I’m sure that George had something to do with the development. To think that my life would’ve been completely different if he hadn’t sent out those joke books that Christmas. My ancestors are Slytherin and took the first opportunity to break the curse. I’m just happy that I’m the one to reap the rewards.”

The pregnant witch shook her head, “I don’t know honey. I like to think myself quite lucky as well.”

Blaise rolled his eyes, “How about the two of you go get a room. Public is not the place for the two of to gush such romantic nonsense.”

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Someone had asked me where I might have the original version of this story posted. I was a bit busy to repost it, but here it is. Most of the dialog within the Pride and Prejudice book come straight from Jane Austen, I just added some here and there. All of Hermione's thoughts are original to me. Also, this is one of my milder works as it is originally from 2012.


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